“The days shuffled by like bland schoolgirls. I didn’t notice their individual faces, only their basic uniform: day and night, day and night.I had no patience for showers or balanced meals. I did a lot of lying on floors — childish certainly, but when one can lie on floors without anyone seeing one, trust me, one will lie on a floor. I discovered, too, the fleeting yet discernible joy of biting into a Whitman’s chocolate and throwing the remaining half behind the sofa in the library. I could read, read, read until my eyes burned and the words floating like noodles in soup.”

“...I couldn't let go of the thought that it had, in fact, been he, restless and moody Heathcliff. Day after day, he floated through all the Wal-Marts in America, searching for me in a million lonely aisles.”

“It was what accidental deaths did to people, made everybody's sea floor irregular and uneven, causing tidal currents to collide, surge upward, thereby resulting in small yet volatile eddies churning at everybody's surface. (In the more dangerous cases, it created a lasting whirlpool in which the strongest swimmers could drown.)”

“I pretended not to notice, but Dad looked sort of deflated there on the edge of my bed. A lost, even humbled look was wandering around his face (quite surprised to be there). Seeing him like this, so un-Dad, made me feel sorry for him - though I didn't let on. His befuddled expression reminded me of those unflattering photographs of presidents The New York Times and other newspapers adored sticking on their front page in order to show the world how the Great Leader looked between the staged waves, the scripted sound-bites, the rehearsed handshakes - not staunch and stately, not even steady, but frail and foolish. And though these candid photographs were amusing, when you actually thought about it, the underlying implication of such a photograph was scary, for they hinted how delicate the balance of our lives, how tenuous our calm little existences, if this was the man in charge.”

“Connie Madison Parker, age 36, on Merchandise: "You got to put yourgoods on display, babe. Otherwise, not only will the boys ignore you but—an'trust me on this, my sister's flat as you—we're talkin' the Great Plains of East Texas — no landmarks — one day you'll look down and have no wares at all.What'll you do then?”

“As far as one journeys, as much as a man sees, from the turrets of the TajMahal to the Siberian wilds, he may eventually come to an unfortunateconclusion —usually while he's lying in bed, staring at the thatched ceiling ofsome substandard accommodation in Indochina," writes Swithin in his lastbook, the posthumously published Whereabouts, 1917 (1918). "It is impossibleto rid himself of the relentless, cloying fever commonly known as Home.After seventy-three years of anguish I have found a cure, however. You mustgo home again, grit your teeth and however arduous the exercise, determine,without embellishment, your exact coordinates at Home, your longitudesand latitudes. Only then, will you stop looking back and see the spectacularview in front of you.”

“Dad's romances could last anywhere between a platypus egg incubation (19-21 days) and a squirrel pregnancy (24-45 days).”