“Part of being a big winner is the ability to be a big loser. There is no paradox involved. It is a distinctly Harvard thing to be able to turn any defeat into victory”

“The explanations for the things we do in life are many and complex. Supposedly mature adults should live by logic, listen to their reason. Think things out before they act.But maybe they never heard what Dr. London told me one, Freud said that for the little things in life we should react according to our reason. But for really big decisions, we should heed what our unconscious tells us.”

“We have turned doctors into gods and worship their deity by offering up our bodies and our souls - not to mention our worldly goods.And yet paradoxically, they are the most vulnerable of human beings. Their suicide rate is eight times the national average. Their percentage of drug addiction is one hundred times higherAnd because they are painfully aware that they cannot live up to our expectations, their anguish is unquantifiably intense. They have aptly been called 'wounded healers.' "~ Barney Livingston, M.D.(Doctors, 1989)”

“Jenny, if you're so con­vinced I'm a loser, why did you bull­doze me into buy­ing you cof­fee?'She looked me straight in the eye and smiled.'I like your body,' she said.”

“But what does he do to qualify as a sonovabitch?” Jenny asked.“Make me”, I replied.“Beg pardon?”“Make me”, I repeated.Her eyes widened like saucers. “You mean like incest?” she asked.“Don’t give me your family problems, Jen. I have enough of my own.”“Like what, Oliver?” she asked, “like just what is it he makes you do?”“The ‘right things’”, I said. “What’s wrong with the ‘right things’?” she asked, delighting in the apparent paradox.”

“I was afraid of being rejected, yes. I was also afraid of being accepted for the wrong reasons.”

“Now would you do me a favor?' From somewhere inside me came this devastating assault to make me cry. But I withstood. I would not cry. I would merely indicate to Jennifer - by the affirmative nodding of my head - that I would be happy to do her any favor whatsoever.'Would you please hold me very tight?' she asked.I put my hand on her forearm - Christ, so thin - and gave it a little squeeze.'No, Oliver,' she said, 'really hold me. Next to me.'I was very, very careful - of the tubes and things - as I got onto the bed with her and put my arms around her.'Thanks, Ollie.'Those were her last words.”