You can do anything when it's not real. When it is real, nothing breaks your fall. Nothing gets between you and the ground.

I'm not a writer who refuses to talk about a book until I've finished.

I could introduce myself properly, but it's not really necessary. You will know me well enough and soon enough, depending on a diverse range of variables. It suffices to say that at some point in time, I will be standing over you, as genially as possible. Your soul will be in my arms. A color will be perched on my shoulder. I will carry you gently away.

...one opportunity leads directly to another, just as risk leads to more risk, life to more life, and death to more death.

Of course, I'm being rude. I'm spoiling the ending, not only of the entire book, but of this particular piece of it. I have given you two events in advance, because I don't have much interest in building mystery. Mystery bores me. It chores me. I know what happens and so do you. It's the machinations that wheel us there that aggravate, perplex, interest, and astound me. There are many things to think of. There is much story.

..As always, she was carrying the washing. Rudy was carrying two buckets of cold water, or as he put it, two buckets of future ice.

Have faith, Ed, all right?' I search the coffee mug, but there's none in there.