It does seem - well, difficult - to be at the mercy of some gross, unshaven stranger before you can begin to be yourself.

I guess it can’t be too often that two people can laugh and make love, too, make love because they are laughing, laugh because they’re making love. The love and the laughter come from the same place: but not many people go there

It seems to be typical of life in America, where opportunities, real and fancied, are thicker than anywhere else on the globe, that the second generation has no time to talk to the first.

Terrifying, that the loss of intimacy with one person results in the freezing over of the world, and the loss of oneself.