“Everybody's wondering, how can I arrange the daisies and dandelions of my life into a better bouquet? The answer is, you can't. Life is random. Life is absurd. Life is deadly. The bouquet arranges itself. And it doesn't always bloom or smell good.”

“Children in a family are like flowers in a bouquet: there's always one determined to face in an opposite direction from the way the arranger desires”

“I have arranged my little life.”

“Life can be lived as a temporary arrangement. Life is a temporary arrangement! But the longer you go without changing, the more obscure the likelihood you ever will. After enough time passes, the idea of another way of life grows even more misty.”

“Love of my life. Love. Of. My. Life. A retrospectively absurd concept since the most I can say is that he was the love of a particular period of my life, and that it is the random vagaries of life itself, and never love, that define time limits. Meaning, to be in love and wish for its immortality is energy unwisely spent. The idea that we have any choice in the matter is the great illusion.”

“Every arrangement in life carried with it the sadness, the sentimental shadow, of its not being something else, but only itself. ”