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She Was So Much A Personality And So Little Anything Else That Even Staring Straight At Her He Had No Idea What She Really Looked Like.

Popularity Has Become Its Own Justification.

[t]o Love A Specific Person, And To Identify With His Or Her Struggles And Joys As If They Were Your Own, You Have To Surrender Some Of Your Self.

She Wondered: How Could People Respond To These Images If Images Didn't Secretly Enjoy The Same Status As Real Things? Not That Images Were So Powerful, But That The World Was So Weak. It Could Be Read, Certainly, In Its Weakness, As On Days When The Sun Baked Fallen Apples In Orchards And The Valley Smelled Like Cider, And Cold Nights When Jordan Had Driven Chadds Ford For Dinner And The Tires Of Her Chevrolet Had Crunched On The Gravel Driveway; But The World Was Fungible Only As Images. Nothing Got Inside The Head Without Becoming Pictures.

Since Our Technology Is Really Just An Extension Of Ourselves, We Don’t Have To Have Contempt For Its Manipulability In The Way We Might With Actual People. It’s All One Big Endless Loop. We Like The Mirror And The Mirror Likes Us. To Friend A Person Is Merely To Include The Person In Our Private Hall Of Flattering Mirrors.