All we ever see of stars are their old photographs.

Janey accuses me of chasing jailbait. She bursts into angry tears, asking if it’s because she’s getting older. It’s true. She’s aging more noticeably every day—while I am standing still. I prefer the stillness here....

A live body and a dead body contain the same number of particles. Structurally, there’s no discernible difference. Life and death are unquantifiable abstracts. Why should I be concerned?

Does the human heart know chasms so abysmal?

Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends.

The superman exists and he’s American.