I feel sorry for the man who marries you... because everyone thinks you're sweet and you're not.

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• Harold Brodkey:

  This identity, this mind, this particular cast of speech, is nearly over.

• Harold Brodkey:

  Being ill like this combines shock - this time I will die - with a pain and agony that are unfamili

• Harold Brodkey:

  Memory, so complete and clear or so evasive, has to be ended, has to be put aside, as if one were l

• Harold Brodkey:

  It is death that goes down to the center of the earth, the great burial church the earth is, and th

• Harold Brodkey:

  I awake with a not entirely sickened knowledge that I am merely young again and in a funny way at p

• Harold Brodkey:

  I am in an adolescence in reverse, as mysterious as the first, except that this time I feel it as a

• Harold Brodkey:

  Almost the first thing I did when I became ill was to buy a truly good television set.

• Harold Brodkey:

  Death and I are head to head in a total collision, pure and mutual distaste.

• Harold Brodkey:

  But death's acquisitive instincts will win.

• Harold Brodkey:

  I have thousands of opinions still - but that is down from millions - and, as always, I know nothin