Odd how clear it suddenly became, once a person had died, that the body was the very least of him.

How plotless real life was!

I love to think about chance - about how one little overheard word, one pebble in a shoe, can change the universe.

Everything was leveled, there were no extremes of joy or sorrow any more but only habit, routine, ancient family names and rites and customs, slow careful old people moving cautiously around furniture that had sat in the same positions for fifty years.

I've always thought a hotel ought to offer optional small animals. I mean a cat to sleep on your bed at night, or a dog of some kind to act pleased when you come in. You ever notice how a hotel room feels so lifeless?

...if you catalogue grudges, anything looks bad.

... everyone must play his role.