For a long time, it was like I was part of some special forces unit: I'd land, meet everyone, five minutes later I'd have to do some amazing work, then - boom! - I'm out again. You know, playing supporting parts takes courage.
There were momentary visitations. I was a visitor, not an inhabitant. I think I say that at the beginning of the book: "I have made visits to the earth in my body, but it's always been as a visitor."
A guest of one's time and not a member of the household.
I am not here forever, so I wanted to do the best for the coming generation.
I'm only going to be here for a time, then leave you." His gaze met mine. "And I will cry when I go, because I could love you forever.
All of us our but his instruments who do our part and pass by.
I never said I wanted to be around for a long time. I always said I wanted to be here for a good time.
You can't learn anything from saguaro cactus, from ocotillo. They are just passing through; their roots, their much heralded dormancy in the dry season, these are only illusions of permanence. They know even less than you do.
Friends come in and out of our lives, like busboys in a restaurant.
I've never stuck around long enough to know if anyone would miss me. That's rock 'n' roll, though. Here today, gone tomorrow.
Like all guests, after a fortnight, grief is best beyond the door.
We can see the film stars of yesterday in yesterday’s films, hear the voices of poest and singers on a record, keep the plays of dead dramatists upon our bookshelves, but the actor who holds his audience captive for one brief moment upon a lighted stage vanishes forever when the curtain falls.
There's no sense that you're there forever. No parent is there forever.
Time is just a moment that we occupy in this brief spin around the planet.