From the novel Monopole [formerly Theodorus in Excelsis]
To be anything again would be a dream. I yearn to take risks, but can hardly keep from even defecating myself. Oh, what a curse it is to contemplate and long! I’d be much better off as a flower or a tree. If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to perceive it, at least the tree itself is a life force and is there to feel its own self fall. There’s very little I feel these days—as if I am something greater than or equal to a tree. Can we both not feel the breeze? Do we both not need similar things? Does a tree need love? Do I photosynthesize? It occurs to me now that, on a biochemical level, love is actually a lot like photosynthesis.