I remember thinking how easy it is to speak in clichés, to steal a line from pulp fiction and let it fall. We can only hover around the inexpressible with our words anyway, and there is comfort in saying what we have heard before.

That is the strangeness of language: it crosses the boundaries of the body, is at once inside and outside, and it sometimes happens that we don't notice the threshold has been crossed.

Every sickness has an alien quality, a feeling of invasion and loss of control that is evident in the language we use about it.

The mind-brain is lived only from a first-person perspective, and it is a dynamic, plastic organ that changes in relation to the environment.

I am always suspicious of those who impose 'rules' on child rearing. Every child is different in terms of temperament and learning, and every parent responds to a particular child, not some generalized infant or youngster.

Vi läser av varandra genom ögonen, och anatomiskt är ögonen en förlängning av hjärnan. När vi fångar någons blick ser vi in i en tankevärld. En människa utan ögon känns oroande av det enkla skälet att ögonen är dörrarna till jaget. (49)