Come athwart my hawse and I shall ride you down, you half-baked son of an Egyptian fart,’ to a wool-gathering jolly-boat; and art echoed from either shore.

When you want to hurry something, that means you no longer care about it and want to get on to other things.

O God, You've done enough, You've robbed me of enough, I'm too tired and old to learn to love, leave me alone for ever.

Devices make us pliant. We want to please them. The machine was his only hope of deliverance after what he'd done, what he'd loosed into the crowd. A way out of death. - (362)

Written By Don DeLillo

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