I know why we try to keep the dead alive: we try to keep them alive in order to keep them with us. I also know that if we are to live ourselves there comes a point at which we must relinquish the dead, let them go, keep them dead. Let them become the photograph on the table. Let

love is not fashionable any more, the poets have killed it. 

Obstacles are the keys for long-term success.

Tell Penny how groovy it was of her to set up this little get-together, oh, and hey—can I be frank for a minute?” “Of course,” said Agents Flatweed and Borderline. Snapping his fingers, Doc sang himself out the door with four bars of “Fly Me to the Moon,

Written By Thomas Pynchon

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