“There is not a name for what I'm feeling. There is no description for it.To call it yearning would be like calling the ocean water.Whatever this thing is, it shoves you inside itself and you can't measure its boundaries because they go too far and you don't have enough time. Or you move toward the boundaries and they move away.There has been an earthquake in my life.Catastrophic, civilization-ending.”
“I'd make oatmeal cookies.""Cookies?""I would. That's just what I would do.""Why?"He lifts one hand from the steering wheel and pinches his chin. "Because the world is changing so fast all the time. There's nothing you can do but just say, 'cool,' and roll with it. But some things can stay the same. Flour is still flour. Vanilla still smells like vanilla. Say a giant fireball is motoring toward us right now from Alha Centauri. Okay, universe. You expect us to run and scream and kill one another? Sorry, we're making oatmeal freaking cookies.”
“Is this what we have to look forward to? The world of adults feels like a universe that has reached the end of its expansion and is inexorably collapsing back in on itself.”
“Welcome to my head. Let's hit the ground running.”
“Everything's a game,' Sagan said. 'When you get down to it. Everything in life is ultimately some kind of strategy. If you have a better strategy than the other guy, he's going down.”
“His voice is a chain pulling me back to Earth.”