It's good to love.

She wanted everything too much.

I should serve cookies, she thought.

She liked commas.

She felt like she was standing on her head.

"Today," she said, "is like a rack of i's."

She didn't know if she would be brave enough to bring the camera to the level of her eyes.

A dark vessel filled with a surprising light ... all the picture she needed.

She wanted lazy lines and slow movement.

She hated its ordinariness, its pinkness; its miracle.

The light was either a rocket blasting off .... or held no interest at all.