"Sometimes it's about what you choose not to read," she said. "Every book we read or movie we see, every little experience becomes a part of who we are. If we're all watching the same things and reading the same things and listening to the same things, then our conversations would end up going in circles, reaffirming things we already know and agree about. There would be no surprises, no serendipity. It'd be like this big tragic echo chamber. It's just not for me." (44)
"A moment had a certain kind of intimacy too, an intimacy that couldn't exist if nobody, or everybody, had been there to bear witness." (57)
"Connor's week glided along on the wings of finality, at the tempo of impending closure, like the last lazy days of one's senior year of school: slow, savored, oozing with the honey of future nostalgia." (103)
"You do things and then you realize they're just echoes from the past, like you threw a big rock into the water a long time ago and now you spend the rest of your life riding out the ripples." (155)
"Walking around Times Square made you realize that this—this layering of voices, this push and draw of blinking lights and images tidal-waving across LEDs, this excitement telegraphed through the air, this laughter floating up, up like soap bubbles, this sheer sense of humanity and electricity mushed into a few square blocks—this was the world when the distance between people was utterly annihilated. In a way, Times Square was like the stream at its most hyperactive, during major events or outside the comfort of familiar personal networks: loud, strange, exciting, crude, annoying, frightening, crashing, blinking, distracting, overwhelming, bursting with the kind of life that one could handle only in small, infrequent doses." (160)
"If there was any sure sign of inexperience, it was believing that everyone had the same motivations." (182)
"There's a difference between not caring, and knowing what's important." (244)
"It was one of those walks enjoyed at the peak of one's intoxication, one of those festive New York nights when everything seemed to be musical and in tune. The people on the streets passed through and around each other like schools of fish, leaving effervescent trails of laughter in their wake. In every bar and restaurant window intricate coups and elaborate trysts were being plotted over pint glasses and vodka sodas, and cigarette smoke and cellphone screens still signaled hope of the night to come, and couples who'd been strangers just moments before smiled into each other's eyes, were scattered every few blocks in front of bodegas and dollar-slice joints like street-side ATMs. This was the city in all its flaunted potential, the time right before the curtains lowered, before the unabashedly public courtships were clasped by the elbow and ushered into cabs and private rooms. It was the time when both pursued and pursuing offered themselves up for the world to see, and said, 'Here I am at the bubbling crest of life, I am you and am in New York City and I know you are watching and I am watching too." (261)
"And wasn't that odd—that his most striking memories were also the ones least captured; ones he'd been so wrapped up in that he'd forgotten to capture in the first place." (291)
"What's more important than this moment, right now? Who cares what all those other people out there are thinking? They're all doing the same thing! They're off in some distant place in their heads, totally divorced from where they really are." (322)