"I have my two hands, which are older than I am.  And I have that quiet frisson.  An undine's hissing near my ear, part threat, part invitation, it penetrates me with some unclassifiable hunger.  A thistle fallen back somewhere in my mind, gently, urgently rasping, it keeps me curious, keeps me new.  These are the things I count on.  These are my comforts.  My charms."  - Marlena De Blasi