Nothing happened, and nothing kept happening.

I can become someone else, not out of pressure and desperation, but merely because a new life sounds fun or interesting or joyful.

Of all the priceless objects left behind, this is what we rescue. These artifacts. Memory cues. Useless souvenirs. Nothing you could auction. The scars left from happiness.

People had been working for so many years to make the world a safe organized place. Nobody realized how boring it would become.

Unless we have that moment of chaos, followed by the emotional release of realization, nothing will be remembered.

After a good-looking boy gives you rabies two, three times, you'll settle down and marry somebody less exciting for the rest of your life

The problem in this case was you can't be a middle-aged virgin in America without something being wrong with you. People can't conceive of a virtue in someone else that they can't conceive in themselves. Instead of believing you're stronger, it's so much easier to imagine you're weaker.