When you’re twenty-one, life is a roadmap. It’s only when you get to be twenty-five or so that you begin to suspect you’ve been looking at the map upside down, and not until you’re forty are you entirely sure. By the time you’re sixty, take it from me, you’re fucking lost. (Location 315)
When it comes to the past, everyone writes fiction. (Location 543)
“This is a badly broken world, full of wars and cruelty and senseless tragedy. Every human being who inhabits it is served his or her portion of unhappiness and wakeful nights. Those of you who don’t already know that will come to know it. Given such sad but undeniable facts of the human condition, you have been given a priceless gift this summer: you are here to sell fun. (Location 760)
I thought I was witnessing an act of uniquely American child abuse. Why would you bring your kid—your toddler, for Christ’s sake—to the jangling sprawl of an amusement park only to fob him or her off on a crew of strange babysitters, even for a little while? (Location 1025)
“I’m sorry for your pain, pal. I feel it coming off you like a cold wind from Canada or maybe even the Arctic. Can I have one of your beers?” (Location 1183)
