“Esteban fell face downward upon the floor. "I am alone, alone, alone," he cried. The Captain stood above him, his great plain face ridged and gray with pain; it was his own old hours he was reliving. He was the awkwardest speaker in the world apart from the lore of the sea, but there are times when it requires a high courage to speak the banal. He could not be sure the figure on the floor was listening, but he said, "We do what we can. We push on, Esteban, as best we can. It isn't for long, you know. Time keeps going by. You'll be surprised at the way time passes.”

“And, at such a time, for a few of us there will always be a tugging at the heart—knowing a precious moment had gone and we not there. We can ask and ask but we can’t have again what once seemed ours for ever—the way things looked, that church alone in the fields, a bed on belfry floor, a remembered voice, a loved face. They’ve gone and you can only wait for the pain to pass. ”

“We passed upon the stair, We spoke of was and when.Although I wasn't there,He said I was his friend,Which came as some surprise.I spoke into his eyesI thought you died alone, a long long time agoOh no, not me,I never lost control.You're face to faceWith the man who sold the world.I laughed and shook his hand,And made my way back home.I searched for form and land,For years and years I roamed.I gazed a gazely stareAt all the millions here.We must have died alone,A long, long time ago.Who knows? Not me.We never lost control.You're face to faceWith the man who sold the worldWho knows? Not me.We never lost control.You're face to faceWith the man who sold the world- The Man Who Sold the World”

“We were never lovers, and we never will be, now. I do not regret that, however. I regret the conversations we never had, the time we did not spend together. I regret that I never told him that he made me happy, when I was in his company. The world was the better for his being in it. These things alone do I now regret: things left unsaid. And he is gone, and I am old.”

“He has to find more and better ways of occupying his time. His time, what a bankrupt idea, as if he's been given a box of time belonging to him alone, stuffed to the brim with hours and minutes that he can spend like money. Trouble is, the box has holes in it and the time is running out, no matter what he does with it.”

“Roosevelt was right when he said that we have nothing to fear itself. And our fear can only consume us when we face it alone.”