“When I set out for Lyonnesse,
A hundred miles away,
The rime was on the spray,
And starlight lit my lonesomeness.”

“I'm not going back to Woodstock for a while,
Though I long to hear that lonesome hippie smile,
I'm a million miles away from that helicopter day,
No, I don't think I'll be goin' back that way.”

“We have more televangelists per square mile here in this part of the country than I really care to think about. Maybe somebody out there will figure out how to spray for them.”

“As it is said:
Go hundreds of miles away
From places of dispute;
Don't stay for an instant
Where disturbing emotions prevail.”

“Who kindly sets a wand'rer on his way
Does e'en as if he lit another's lamp by his:
No less shines his, when he his friend's hath lit.”
Homo qui erranti comiter monstrat viam, Quasi lumen de suo lumine accendat facit; Nihilo minus ipsi lucet, cum illi accenderit.

“And when demigods use cell phones, the signals agitate every monster within a hundred miles. It's like sending up a flare: Here I am! Please rearrange my face!”

“I am going to tell you something you must not tell to any human being. We have split the atom. The report of the great experiment has just come in. A bomb was let off in some wild spot in New Mexico. It was only a thirteen-pound bomb, but it made a crater half a mile across. People ten miles away lay with their feet towards the bomb; when it went off they rolled over and tried to look at the sky. But even with the darkest glasses it was impossible. It was the middle of the night, but it was as if seven suns had lit the earth; two hundred miles away the light could be seen. The bomb sent up smoke into the stratosphere…It is the Second Coming. The secret has been wrested from nature…Fire was the first discovery; this is the second.”

“I squeeze my eyes shut and try to reach for him across the hundreds and hundreds of miles, to send my thoughts into his mind, to let him know he is not alone. But he is. And I can't help him.”

“From the walls of Baidi high in the colored dawn
To Jiangling by night-fall is three hundred miles,
Yet monkeys are still calling on both banks behind me
To my boat these ten thousand mountains away.”

“You're my closest friend and you're thousands of miles away.”