"The thunder was insistent, like door knocking that would not let up. It seemed about making us let something inside-and we didn't want to. We refused, the early thunder was almost polite, distant and just as comfortable as hearing your name called at suppertime. But the later thunder had lost all patience, given up on convincing us and decided to threaten us, like a maniac who'd knock the door down by banging his head against it if he had to. It made me understand that we don't always get to decide what we let in and what we keep out. A door is just an idea."