“Standing amid the tan, excited post-Christmas crowd at the Southwest Florida Regional Airport, Rabbit Angstrom has a funny sudden feeling that what he has come to meet, what's floating in unseen about to land, is not his son Nelson and daughter-in-law Pru and their two children but something more ominous and intimately his: his own death, shaped vaguely like an airplane.”
“His son. That funny creature that looked like a skinned rabbit was his son.”
“They seemed so united that I loved them as one person." Lee wrote of his son and daughter-in-law on his daughter-in-law's death.”
“…he stands there reading statistics about his own death even as it’s happening to him. Very post-modern.”
“He's young and tan and hung like Christmas has come early,...”
“He turns off the techno-shit in his goggles. All it does is confuse him; he stands there reading statistics about his own death even as it's happening to him. Very post-modern.”