“On the freeway of life, Lisa Watson was stuck at the entrance ramp, trapped behind a cautious old lady in a Buick.”

“Man, that woman was quick when she wanted to be. But put her behind the wheel of a Buick...”

“The play takes place on a ramp, hanging from a ramp, below a ramp, and to the sides of a ramp.”

“So she sat down to morning tea, like any other old lady with a high nose, thin cheeks, a ring on her finger and the usual trappings of rather shabby but gallant old age...”

“I removed the freeway from its temporal context. Overpasses, cloverleafs, exit ramps took on the personality of Mayan ruins for me. Without destination, without cessation, my run was often silent and empty; there were no increments, no arbitrary graduations reducing time to functional units. I abstracted and purified.”

“Lovely house,” Jack said, as he was led—hands still bound—through the grand entrance ofBelgrave. He turned to the old lady. “Did you decorate? It has that woman‟s touch.”Miss Eversleigh was trailing behind, but he could hear her choke back a bubble of laughter.“Oh, let it out, Miss Eversleigh,” he called over his shoulder. “Much better for yourconstitution.”