“Imagine how you’d feel if your whole life turned into a job you couldn’t stand.”

“There were jobs so bor­ing, you’d find ways to crip­ple your­self so you couldn’t work.”

“However unfortunate you may feel, there are always those less fortunate than you. I’m not talking about the homeless—I’m talking about your clones. Think how insecure you’d feel if you knew you were nothing more than a derivative. And if you can imagine how you’d feel, you now know exactly how the other you would feel.”

“It was a blessing and also a curse of handwritten letters that unlike email you couldn’t obsessively reread what you’d written after you’d sent it. You couldn’t attempt to un-send it. Once you’d sent it it was gone. It was an object that no longer belonged to you but belonged to your recipient to do with what he would. You tended to remember the feeling of what you’d said more than the words. You gave to object away and left yourself with the memory. That was what it was to give.”

“If you had your way you’d pass a law to abolish all the little jobs, the little things. But then you’d leave yourselves nothing to do between the big jobs and you’d have a devil of a time thinking up things to do so you wouldn’t go crazy. Instead of that, why not let nature show you a few things? Cutting grass and pulling weeds can be a way of life, son.”

“Have you ever had that feeling—that you’d like to go to a whole different place and become a whole different self?”