"I want witchcraft so bad that I can't stand it. I have wands in my apartment. And I use them sometimes. I walk into the kitchen with my wand, and I come out with something on a platter and I say, 'See, magic happens.' Works every time."

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The rooms of his apartment were full with the dog home again, convalescing. He was satisfied to know, even when she was out of sight, that somewhere in the apartment she was sleeping or eating or sitting watchfully. It was family, he guessed, more or less. Did most people want a house of living things at night, to know that in the dark around them other warm bodies slept? Such a house could even be the whole world.

— Lydia Millet