The cracks in old friendships are measured in awkward pauses.
Diminish the influence of fate
Regret doesn't budge things; it seems crazy that the force of all that human want can't amend a moment, can't even stir a pebble.
When you know you are dying, self-deceptions fly from your bedside like embers off a bonfire.
Things don't go away. They become you.
A tragedy's first act is crowded with supporting players: witnesses crimping their faces, policemen scribbling in pads and making radio calls, EMS guys unfolding equipment, tubes and wheels.