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We could hear the parade three blocks before it arrived at our corner.

They’d developed Santa’s entire system, had written the code.

I hear my brother’s wife whisper, It’s her again. Let the machine get it.

Salve, salve, Regina. As the song ends, he folds into the fabric seat.

She wags her index finger so furiously that I’m certain it will snap off.

How bright and eager they appear, how ready to get started.

Elinor had loved a man. The journey’s purpose was that she might forget.

Ms. Marmelstein led with her eyelashes, curling out like scimitars.

About suffering they were never wrong, The Old Masters.

He would sneak into my room, we would have sex, he would sneak out.

What were the unsafe things to say even in a thirty-year marriage?

Someday you’ll understand, darling. Everyone will just—vanish!

She was so happy they were going to save her from the city of Dallas.

Try never to repeat rhymes, not once in an entire show. It tires the ear.

The dope worked, though he felt ashamed using it, smoked in secret.

I am desperate to love myself, to tolerate myself, vanity is fine.

I walk across the fields with only a few young cows for company.

i stored away in my mama’s empty perfume bottles smells and stories

At nineteen you were six-foot-two. At ninety-one you will be two-foot-six.

She’s not the same, her body more naked in its aging, its disorder.

If party isn’t what we set out to do then you should go home.

Doctor Dressler left her a note: Suicide. Back by 7:00. Love, Max.

I sometimes have to laugh because even now, as a middle-aged man.

We are each other’s as surely as song stitches breath to air.

The danger was my own carelessness, and now I was waist deep in it.

He thought of the love that had filled the great central chamber of his life.

You must not be afraid of what waits after death, my past self says.

It will be years before the kids see us as real people, not just as parents.