Notes

From 335. Thoughts and quotes and paraphrases and hopefully none of the kitsch I left in the margins.

"Sometimes I feel like I have no right to be where I am."

Little lost corn boy in boots

Green and hungry as monsters

She is-

Beautiful. It was the first thing I thought when I saw her, and the notion only increased as I saw more of her. I wasn't looking at the subtitles when they said what happened to her. But I think I want to be like her. Maybe. Maybe that's a bad thing to say before the watching the whole thing.

Robot blue, eyes bright as the lights go out, lookin' at you, kid, lookin' at you

"Did he talk about me?" She waits for an answer, fearless, in purple, swatches of schizo color on the walls behind her

"I'm always tired," she says outside the shop, her coat the color of the walls. "No, not always. Sometimes."

She runs her fingers along the blue fabric of the couch and talks about a girl she met in the hospital. "You must love something," the doctor said. But that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all.

"Did you come back after you heard of your wife's accident?"

"No, the doctor said I didn't n--why, did she complain about that?"

"No; no, not at all."

"I try to do right by my conscience." She smiles because she is dazzled by his heart. But does she have a conscience with which to match him or has she lost it in the sand? It is very difficult to not reach when one stretches

Why don't you ever see it the other way around?
There's an Asimov story about a broken robot.
He does beautiful things with light.

Wild red machines built to hear the stars

"I'm used to it," he yells down; no more fear

How boring, I feel

Too much light pollution, anyways

The belly full moon is enough for me, anyways