If there really had been a Mercutio, and if there really were a Paradise, Mercutio might be hanging out with teenage Vietnam draftee casualties now, talking about what it felt like to die for other people's vanity and foolishness.

They were lovebirds. They entertained each other endlessly with little gifts: sights worth seeing out the plane window, amusing or instructive bits from things they read, random recollections of times gone by. They were, I think, a flawless example of what Bokonon calls a duprass, which is a karass composed of only two persons.

There's only one me, and I'm stuck with him.

Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.

We're terrible animals. I think that the Earth's immune system is trying to get rid of us, as well it should.

Those who believe in telekinetics, raise my hand.

It is never a mistake to say good-bye.