All Tomorrow's Parties (Bridge, #3)

by William Gibson

It had been fine when they’d had things to do together, but when it came to just being together, that hadn’t seemed to work,

“Don’t anticipate outcome,” the man said. “Await the unfolding of events. Remain in the moment.”

Some things never happen, he reminds himself. But this one always does, says the still small voice of mortality.

“I think you’re still liable to get your ass blown away by tribal enemies, in America,

These people have short fuses and no coordinating authority.

there is in him that which believes, against all odds or hope, that all will simply, somehow, be well. Or that in any case there is usually not much to be done about certain things, or in any case not by him.

she is like a game program that comes out and sits in your room, he thinks, and some people would like that just fine.

when he sees her walk past the screens there, he sees her on every last screen, walking out of every Lucky Dragon in the world, wearing that same smile.

He has glimpsed the edges of a life there that he feels is somehow ancient and eternal.