A man can go along obeying all the rules and then it don't matter a damn anymore.

That's all we have, finally, the words, and they had better be the right ones.

This is awful. I don't know what's going to happen to me or to anyone else in the world.

What good are insights? They only make things worse.

There was this funny thing of anything could happen now that we realized everything had.

But I can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting, crossing one leg and then the other. I feel like I could throw off sparks, or break a window--maybe rearrange all the furniture.

A man can go along obeying all the rules and then it don't matter a damn anymore.