When my mother died, my father's early widowhood gave him social cachet he would not have had if they had divorced. He was a bigger catch for the sorrow attached.

I get rational when I panic.

I wanted to be a veterinarian, but slipped up when I hit organic chemistry.

We can only die in the future, I thought; right now we are always alive.

I am not quite myself, I think.But who here is quite himself? And yet there is a way in which we are all more ourselves than ever, I suppose.

Dreams: the place most of us get what we need.

The other day I was playing Scrabble. I saw that I could close the space in D-E- -Y. I had an N and an F. Which do you think I chose? What was the word I made?