“Space echoes like an immense tomb, yet the stars still burn. Why does the sun take so long to die ?”

“Spiders evidently as surprised by the weather as the rest of us: their webs were still everywhere - little silken laundry lines with perfect snowflakes hung out in rows to dry.”

“There's something about these obscure vignettes of former lives that's very powerful. Our woods are full of old cellar holes, tumbled-down chimneys, ancient scraggly lilacs absurdly tall still stretching toward the light.”

“Stars have their moments then they die.”

“Why does reading freak people out so much? Sure, I could be pretty anti-social when we were on the road, but if I was playing a Gameboy hour after hour, no one would be on my case. In my social circle, blowing up space monsters is socially acceptable in a way that American Pastoral isn't.”

“Oh, we will know, won't we?The stars will explode in the skyOh, but they don't, do they?Stars have their moment and then they die”

“When?' said the moon to the stars in the skySoon' said the wind that followed them allWho?' said the cloud that started to cryMe' said the rider as dry as a boneHow?' said the sun that melted the groundand 'Why?' said the river that refused to runand 'Where?' said the thunder without a soundHere' said the rider and took up his gunNo' said the stars to the moon in the skyNo' said the trees that started to moanNo' said the dust that blunted its eyesYes' said the rider as white as a boneNo' said the moon that rose from his sleepNo' said the cry of the dying sunNo' said the planet as it started to weepYes' said the rider and laid down his gun”