“The portuguese never put anything behind them except a chair to eat lunch.”

“Fortunately she stopped the servants before the platters of cold meats left the house, sending them back to the kitchen where she had the ham and beef placed on separate plates, for the Hindi Christians despite their conversion would not eat cow and the Muslims would not eat pig. The Portuguese, of course, ate anything.”

“I want to eat lunch. You want to eat lunch. We're people in the world. We need to eat and talk.”

“This is the story of two men who met in a banana republic. One of them never did anything dishonest in his life except for one crazy minute. The other never did anything honest in his life except for one crazy minute. ”

“Here," I say. "You can put music behind it, and it will be your own." And it strikes me that this is how writing anything is, really. A collaboration between you who give the words and they who take them and find meaning in them, or put music behind them, or turn them aside because they were not what was needed.”

“What is it that dies? A log of wood dies to become a few planks. The planks die to become a chair. The chair dies to become a piece of firewood, and the firewood dies to become ash. You give different names to the different shapes the wood takes, but the basic substance is there always. If we could always remember this, we would never worry about the loss of anything. We never lose anything; we never gain anything. By such discrimination we put an end to unhappiness. (118-119)”