I don't think it's a question of whether you eat meat. It's a question of what kind of meat, and where it comes from.

While in a vintage restaurant..."the past isn't quaint while you're in it. Only at a safe distance, later, when you see it as decor, not as the shape your life's been squeezed into.

Why is it he feels some line has been crossed, some boundary transgressed? How much is too much, how far is too far?

The body is so easily damaged, so easily disposed of, water and chemicals is all it is, hardly more to it than a jellyfish drying on sand.

I grew up with the biologists. I know how they think.

Not real can tell us about real.

Old lovers go the way of old photographs, bleaching out gradually as in a slow bath of acid: first the moles and pimples, then the shadings. Then the faces themselves, until nothing remains but the general outlines.