“Okay. Sometimes the truth just lands at your feet in a lump, like a big, dead bird falling out of the sky. No warning...I stand there under the branches of the Honesty Tree. More dead birds of truth fall down all around me.”

“Don't you think...doesn't it seem sometimes like life is like a plane?...And we're all piloos, you know, of our own planes. When things are going smoothly then we're, like, on autopilot, but sometimes things get a little, well, turbulent and then we have to land the plane on our own..."What about the air traffic control?"...Well, sure. Sometimes the guy is helpful, but maybe he's drunk?...Or maybe there's this big fog so you just put your hands on the controls and look for the runway lights and do your best. On your own.”

“There's no point in getting angry. Anger makes you ask questiona. Anger sets up expectations and demands to know the truth. ”

“One never forgets, of course not. The events of a person's life become a part of who they are. It would be like forgetting the sound of your own beating heart.”

“First rule of a good shrink is probably to pay attention to the whining.”

“She called, "Aurora!" in a penetrating voice that could cause a small bird to fall dead out of the sky.”

“Frost in January minus 20 for a week. Dead birds frozen on the branch—they fall with the first thaw like ripe fruit—death-ripened. We shall all end like them—just a stain in the snow.”