Death glided by, shadowless, among the empties on the grass. - Thomas Pynchon

What are the stars but points in the body of God where we insert the healing needles of our terror and longing?

Behind the hieroglyphic streets there would either be a transcendent meaning, or only the earth.... Another mode of meaning behind the obvious, or none. Either Oedipa in the orbiting of a true paranoia, or a real Tristero. For there either was some Tristero beyond the appearance of the legacy of America, or there was just America and if there was just America then it seemed the only wa[y] she could continue, and manage to be at all relevant to it, was as an alien, unfurrowed, assumed full circle into some paranoia.

Can't say it often enough - change your hair, change your life.