There's a quickening of her heart when she sees him. She tells herself it's anger.

It's called loitering, which is like littering with human beings as the trash.

Touch is a freaky thing when you're not used to it. It makes you feel all kinds of things.

Our conversation with the supermarket manager had been about as helpful as a New Jersey road sign, and if you've ever been there, you know the signs don't tell you the exit you're coming up to, they only point out the exits you've just missed.

He does not deserve this. He has done many things, not all good, but he does not deserve this. And he never did get his priest.

[...] every time he forces himself to think before acting, it's her voice in his head telling him to slow down. He wants to tell her, but she's always so busy in the medical jet—and you don't just go to somebody and say, "I'm a better person because you're in my head.

You think you want to know the secrets of the universe. You think you want to see the way things all fit together. You believe in your heart of hearts that enlightenment will save the world and set you free. Maybe it will. But the path to enlightenment is rarely a pleasant one.