“Nudge: You aren't.
Iggy (irritably): No. You aren't dead either. How about just 'hello'?”

“All genders?' whispered Nudge. 'Aren't there just the two'
I shrugged. 'No idea. Maybe they've created others.”

“The dead aren't scary. They are just sad.”

“I basked in you;
I loved you, helplessly, with a boundless tongue-tied love.
And death doesn't prevent me from loving you.
Besides,
in my opinion you aren't dead.
(I know dead people, and you are not dead.)”

“Your habitual thinking patterns either encourage you toward excellence or nudge you into weakness.”

“Hello, boys. How are you all? I just love boys. […] Hello. Are you here alone? Who are you with? …A woman? At my show? …We'll make believe. It's theatre.”

“Hell? Mr. Human Boy Person? Can you hear the Simi? Or are you dead? Hello? (Simi)”

“Jeez, was that a lion? Please tell me it’s behind bars.”
“It’s a zoo, Iggy,” Nudge said, taking his arms and leading him. “Everything’s behind bars.”

“Zack shook his head. "I am glad you aren't mine. You're going to be dead before you're forty."
"No," rumbled my husband's soft deep voice from the hallway. "I'm going to be dead before she's forty.”

“Truscott: Why aren't you both at the funeral? I thought you were mourners.
Fay: We decided not to go. We were afraid we might break down.
Truscott: That's a selfish attitude to take. The dead can't bury themselves, you know.”