God knows there certainly ought to be a window around here somewhere, for all of us.

No one forgets the truth; they just get better at lying.

Hopeless emptiness. Now you've said it. Plenty of people are onto the emptiness, but it takes real guts to see the hopelessness.

The hell with "love" anyway, and with every other phony, time-wasting, half-assed emotion in the world.

The Revolutionary Hill Estates had not been designed to accommodate a tragedy. Even at night, as if on purpose, the development held no looming shadows and no gaunt silhouettes. It was invincibly cheerful, a toyland of white and pastel houses whose bright, uncurtained windows winked blandly through a dappling of green and yellow leaves … A man running down these streets in desperate grief was indecently out of place.

And do you know a funny thing? I'm almost fifty years old and I've never understood anything in my whole life.

People did change, and a change could be a bloom as well as a withering.