What sort of an age is this where a man becomes one's enemy only when his back is turned?

Murphy's Law, that brash proletarian restatement of Godel's Theorem.

All investigations of Time, however sophisticated or abstract, have at their true base the human fear of mortality.

Losing faith is a complicated business and takes time. There are no epiphanies, no "moments of truth." It takes much thought and concentration in the later phases, which thenselves come about through an accumulation of small accidents: examples of general injustice, misfortune falling upon the godly, prayers of one's own unanswered.

Love with your mouth shut, help without breaking your ass or publicizing it: keep cool, but care.

Someday she might replace whatever of her had gone away by some prosthetic device, a dress of a certain color, a phrase in a letter, another lover.

Everybody who says the same words is the same person if the spectra are the same only they happen differently in time, you dig? But the time is arbitrary. You pick your zero point anywhere you want, that way you can shuffle each person's time line sideways till they all coincide.