White Noise

We seem to believe it is possible to ward off death by following rules of good grooming.

“The greater the scientific advance, the more primitive the fear.”

It was these secondary levels of life, these extrasensory flashes and floating nuances of being, these pockets of rapport forming unexpectedly, that made me believe we were a magic act, adults and children together, sharing unaccountable things.

“That’s what it all comes down to in the end,” he said. “A person spends his life saying good-bye to other people. How does he say good-bye to himself?”

What we are reluctant to touch often seems the very fabric of our salvation.

Murray says it is possible to be homesick for a place even when you are there.

What good is knowledge if it just floats in the air? It goes from computer to computer. It changes and grows every second of every day. But nobody actually knows anything.”

The eleven-year-old face was an expert mask of restrained exasperation.

It was a habit of his, letting the ash dangle. Babette thought he did it to induce feelings of suspense and anxiety in others. It was part of the reckless weather in which he moved.