“I'll be darned!" said Douglas. "I never thought of that. That's brilliant! It's true. Old people never were children!""And it's kind of sad," said Tom, sitting still."There's nothing we can do to help them.”

“I'll look as if I'm dead, and that won't be true.'I said nothing.'You understand. It's too far. I can't take this body with me. It's too heavy.'I said nothing.'But it'll be like an old abandoned shell. There's nothing sad about an old shell...'I said nothing.'It'll be nice, you know. I'll be looking at the stars, too. All the stars will be wells with a rusty pulley. All the stars will pour out water for me to drink...'I said nothing.'And it'll be fun! You'll have five-hundred million little bells; I'll have five-hundred million springs of fresh water...'And he, too, said nothing more.”

“Tom," said Douglas, "just promise me one thing, okay?" "It's a promise. What?" "You may be my brother and maybe I hate you sometimes, but stick around, all right?" "You mean you'll let me follow you and the older guys when you go on hikes?" "Well . . . sure . . . even that. What I mean is, don't go away, huh? Don't let any cars run over you or fall of a cliff." "I should say not! Whatta you think I am, anyway?" "'Cause if worst comes to worst, and both of us are real old--say forty or forty-five some day-- we can own a gold mine out West and sit there smoking corn silk and growing bears." "Growing beards! Boy!" "Like I say, you stick around and don't let nothing happen.""You can depend on me," said Tom. "It's not you I worry about," said Douglas. "It's the way God runs the world." Tom thought about this for a moment. "He's all right, Doug," said Tom. "He tries.”

“But you know what? Peace is just an idea. There will never be peace on Earth, at least, not the kind of kumbaya-harmony people envision. There can be ceasefires and treaties, but we will never know true peace. That's the sad truth of the world.”

“And that's when she put her book down. And looked at me. And said it: "Life isn't fair, Bill. we tell our children that it is, but it's a terrible thing to do. It's not only a lie, it's a cruel lie. Life is not fair, and it never has been, and it's never going to be.”

“There were still newspapers, then. We used to read them in bed. It's French, he said. From m'aidez. Help Me.”