He thinks he's happy but it's just a nerve cell in his brain that's getting too much stimulation or too little stimulation.

Sometimes a thing that's hard is hard because you're doing it wrong. (Point Omega)

Her death would leave me scattered, talking to chairs and pillows. Don't let us die, I want to cry out to that fifth-century sky ablaze with mystery and spiral light. Let us both live forever, in sickness and health, feebleminded, doddering, toothless, liver-spotted, dim-sighted, hallucinating. Who decides these things? What is out there? Who are you?

War is the form nostalgia takes when men are hard-pressed to say something good about their country.

It is possible to be homesick for a place even when you are there.

Fear is self-awareness raised to a higher level.

The figure of the gunman in the window was inextricable from the victim and his history. This sustained Oswald in his cell. It gave him what he needed to live. The more time he spent in a cell, the stronger he would get. Everybody knew who he was now.