“Silver is forty-four years old, if you can believe it, out of shape, and depressed – although he doesn’t know if you call it depression when you have good reason to be; maybe then you’re simply sad, or lonely, or just painfully aware, on a daily basis, of all the things you can never get back.”

“Silver is forty-four years old, if you can believe it, out of shape, and depressed – although he doesn’t know if you call it depression when you have good reason to be; maybe then you’re simply sad, or lonely, or just painfully aware, on a daily basis, of all the things you can never get back.”

— Jonathan Tropper