Dear God, help me. Do not forget me on this tiny cinder lost in a galaxy that is lost–a heart no bigger than a speck of dust beating, beating against death, against meaninglessness, against guilt, against sorrow.

[...] so important to believe in a concept of goodness, even if we make it up ourselves. We don't really make it up. it's there, isn't it?" "Oh, yes, it's there," she said. "It's there because we put it there.

Sometimes fear is a warning. It's like someone putting a hand on your shoulder and saying Go No Farther.

We have such a terrible, terrible misconception of science. We think it involves the definite, the precise, the known; it is a horrid series of gates to an unknown as vast of the universe; which means endless.

Memory was a curse, yes, he thought, but it was also the greatest gift. Because if you lost memory you lost everything.

The only power that exists is inside ourselves.

Say what you will to the force that governs the universe. Perhaps we'll call it into being, and it will yet love us as we love it.