"I mean," he says, "how the hell do you think it feels? Sitting there and having the plane explode?" — John Updike

He could have gone over that night and faced the music but how much music is a man supposed to face?

The smell of good advice always makes Rabbit want to run the other way.

No matter how hard you climb, there are always the rich above you, who got there without effort. Lucky stiffs, holding you down, making you discontent so you buy more of the crap advertised on television.