The honour of physical decline is waiting, and you have to get used to that reality.

Don't pointless things have a place, too, in this far-from-perfect world?

What a terrible thing it is to wound someone you really care for and to do it so unconsciously.

I wasn't particularly afraid of death itself. As Shakespeare said, die this year and you don't have to die the next.

My point is: in this whole wide world the only person you can depend on is you.

Everyone who has something is afraid of losing it, and people with nothing are worried they'll forever have nothing. Everyone is the same.

I may not look it, but I can be a very patient guy. And killing time is one of my specialities.