You normally have to be bashed about a bit by life to see the point of daffodils, sunsets and uneventful nice days.

Cynics are - beneath it all - only idealists with awkwardly high standards.

People who hold important positions in society are commonly labelled "somebodies," and their inverse "nobodies"-both of which are, of course, nonsensical descriptors, for we are all, by necessity, individuals with distinct identities and comparable claims on existence. Such words are nevertheless an apt vehicle for conveying the disparate treatment accorded to different groups. Those without status are all but invisible: they are treated brusquely by others, their complexities trampled upon and their singularities ignored.

Journeys are the midwives of thought. Few places are more conducive to internal conversations than moving planes, ships or trains.

For paranoia about 'what other people think' : remember that only some hate, a very few love - and almost all just don't care.

The only people we can think of as normal are those we don't yet know very well.

One wants never to give up this crystalline perspective. One wants to keep counterpositioning home with what one knows of alternative realities, as they exist in Tunis or Hyderabad. One wants never to forget that nothing here is normal, that the streets are different in Wisebaden, and Louyang, that this is just one of many possible worlds.