In an unmoored life like mine, sleep and hunger and work arrange themselves to suit themselves, without consulting me.

The other American divisions on our flanks managed to pull out: We were obliged to stay and fight. Bayonets aren't much good against tanks.

But I replied that what made being alive almost worthwhile for me, besides music, was all the saints I met, who could be anywhere. By saints I meant people who behaved decently in a strikingly indecent society.

...when a person dies he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, present, and future, always have existed, always will exist.

If it weren't for the people always getting tangled up with the machinery... Earth would be an engineer's paradise.

I was a victim of a series of accidents, as are we all.

I say the same thing about the death of James Wait. "Oh, well -- he wasn't going to write the Beethoven's Ninth Symphony anyway.