The interesting thing is why we're so desperate for this anesthetic against loneliness.

There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says 'Morning, boys. How's the water?' And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes 'What the hell is water?'

I had, by thirteen, developed a sort of Taoist hubris about my ability to control via non-control.

It seems important to find ways of reminding ourselves that most "familiarity" is meditated and delusive.

I miss everyone. I can remember being young and feeling a thing and identifying it as homesickness, and then thinking well now that’s odd, isn’t it, because I was home, all the time. What on earth are we to make of that?

I know I'm paranoid, but am I paranoid enough?

I find in myself a need to get very away.