He is mad about being small when you were big, but no, that's not it, he is mad about being helpless when you were powerful, but no, not that either, he is mad about being contingent when you were necessary, not quite it... he is insane because when he loved you, you didn't notice.

The writer is one who, emnbarking upon a task, does not know what to do.

There was no particular point at which I stopped being promising.

The task is not so much to solve problems as to propose questions.

See the moon? It hates us.

The best way to live is by not knowing what will happen to you at the end of the day.

The death of God left the angels in a strange position.