“I intend to live as a happy man, though I am not quite ready to live as one, which means I'm not quite ready to die; whatever it is, I'm working on it, trust me”

“I'm fifty-one years old, but I'm not through yet. I have lived a full life, and intend packing in quite a lot more.”

“I don't know how one should live - but I know that one should live.....”

“I'm a bad man. I need to understand the past. It illuminates the present.”

“I move like I'm gravity, like it's not a decision. Standing on my toes, on the edge of the high dive, the water looks as clear and blue as the sky. In my head there's the possibility that this moment isn't here yet, that maybe I'm not born. I could be an idea. Or I could be realized, and life is standing still. For this moment, the world has stopped. I have a perfect balance. The wind moves around me. My heart is as light and bright as the sun. I am as light as a sparrow bone, and for one moment I am everything that can't be caught and held. Then I'm passing through the air, turning, arms drawn in, toes pointed. My chin rests on my chest. I believe I have a chance at anything: one full revolution. I spread my wings. I arch my back. I remember why swans are graceful, why someone would name this for something beautiful. I think I'm touching the clouds. For a long time they keep me from breaking the blue. I don't hear the shattering surface. I belong behind this sky, all-silent and calm, and part of the world where butterflies live after they give up their feet and dream of flight. I can stay, if I pretend the fire in my chest doesn't burn, if I pretend the world is upside down, if I pretend water is the air I breathe.”

“I do not want to die, Croaker. All that I am shrieks against the unrighteousness of death. All that I am, was, and probably will be, is shaped by my passion to evade the end of me.”

“I don't think I believe in angels, that's all. And if you were one, that would mean I'd have to re-evaluate my beliefs. I'm not quite ready to do that.”