“The stillness and stasis of bed are the perfect opposite of travel: inertia is what I've come to consider the default mode, existentially and electronically speaking. Bed, its utter inactivity, offers a glimpse of eternity, without the drawback of being dead.”
“For years I've gone to bed gazing up at the eternal question: WHAT IF THE HOCKEY POKEY IS WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT?”
“You speculate on the luxury of wearing out a whole existence in bed, like an oyster in its shell, content with the sluggish ecstasy of inaction.”
“It's the sight of the dead...the teasing glimpse of what comes when you are no one.”
“So am I dead? How many kinds of living and dead and living dead and dead living had I been in just these few months, these few days, after the stasis of plain old human living and dying? I deserved some kind of existential medal.”
“And will 'a not come again? And will 'a not come again? No, no, he is dead, Go to thy death bed: He will never come again.”