But at least he can still see the lights below us. Although maybe for him it doesn't matter.

For each person there is a sentence—a series of words—which has the power to destroy them.

The church of my choice is the free, open world.

What they do not comprehend is man's helplessness. I am weak, small, of no consequence to the universe. It does not notice me; I live on unseen. But why is that bad? Isn't it that way? Whom the gods notice they destroy. Be small... and you will escape the jealousy of the great.

How'd you like to gaze at a beer can throughout eternity? It might not be so bad. There'd be nothing to fear.

The odd thing in this world is that an eager-beaver type, with no original ideas, who mimes those in authority above him right to the last twist of necktie and scrape of chin, always gets noticed. Gets selected. Rises.

You know what the doctor said to me to cheer me up?" Fat said. "There are worse diseases than cancer." "Did he show you slides?" We both laughed. When you are nearly crazy with grief, you laugh at what you can.