I don't get nearly enough credit in life for the things I manage not to say.

I guess there was a war going on somewhere in the world that night but it wasn't one that could touch us.

The average attention span of the modern human being is about half as long as whatever youre trying to tell them.

I felt a momentary urge to leap into the sea and swim free of the present.

It's not that he lacked poetry. But his poetry was of the body, not the mind. He spoke it in the way he moved, the way he held a hammer, rowed a boat, built a fire. I, on the other hand, was like a brain in a box, a beating heart in a coal scuttle.

I was pretty far gone, but not so far gone that I thought anyone with half a toehold in reality would think what we were doing was a good idea.

I'm a century old, an impossible age, and my brain has no anchor in the present. Instead it drifts, nearly always to the same shore. Today, as most days, it is 1962. The year I discovered love.