“A veteran reporter knows there is a disconnect between how an event in a region is experienced and the way it is perceived in distant capitals. He sends dispatches about violent insurrections, riots and clashes, and feels his words loom large in his mind, then become small, minuscule, in the sending,until eventually he discovers that none of his reporting produces more than a twinge or yawn in the wider world.”

“One day my sister Virginia woke up feeling wolfish. She made wolf SOUNDS and did strange things...”

“The fog turned a strange yellow, then orange, then black. The gilded winged statue Victory at Buckingham Palace retreated into mist. St. Paul's was a hazy outline, ghostlike in the gloom. La Traviata at the Sadler's Wells theatre was terminated midway because the audience could no longer see the singers on stage. Pedestrians noticed how everything below the waist disappeared. Knees, shoes, dogs became indistinguishable. The Great Smog was days and nights of people and things passing out of sight and existence. It seemed a fitting time for a mother to evaporate.”

“Always do at least one good deed a day for someone other then yourself.”

“Behind my smile is a breaking heartBehind my laugh i'm falling apartLook closely and you will see...that that girl...isn't me.”

“And unlike the rest of you, he hasn’t yet time to ruin his career or his mind.""Then he won’t do. Send him home. Get us another lunatic.""Excuse me!" [hopping up to stand in his seat] "Elassar Targon, master of the universe, reporting for duty!""I withdraw my objection.”

“Rather than the strength it takes to not lose, it's the strength to stand back up after a loss that is sometimes more valuable.”