“The operating table was empty.'Where's he gone?' demanded Jane.'he didn't leave a note,' said Rye”

“Jane Jameson."He grinned. "Like the porn star."I gaped at him. "What? No, Jane Jameson.""Oh, not as fun," he said, making disappointed clucking noises.”

“I wasn't expecting that. It hit me in a place I didn't know was there. All I could think of was one of those medical shows. They're operating on some poor slob, they accidentally nick an artery, and he starts gushing. 'We got a bleeder!' the surgeon yells, and everybody comes rushing to the operating table. Nobody was rushing to me, though.”

“Ten yeaars ago, on my sixth birthday, my father disappeared.No, he didn't leave. Leaving would imply suitcases and empty drawers, and late birthday cards with ten-dollar bills stuffed inside.Leaving would imply he was unhappy with Mom and me, or he found a new love elsewhere. None of that was true.”

“He didn't ask "Where will you spend eternity?" as religious the-end-is-near picketers did but rather, "With what, in this modern democracy, will you meet the demands of your soul?”

“His absence will haunt their hallways, and he will be a space they can't fill. And then time will pass, and the hole will be gone, like when an organ is removed and the body's fluids flow into the space it leaves. Humans can't tolerate emptiness for long.”