It's weird to feel like you miss someone you're not even sure you know.

The real irony is that the view of infinity as some forbidden zone or road to insanity - which view was very old and powerful and haunted math for 2000+ years - is precisely what Cantor's own work overturned. Saying that infinity drove Cantor mad is sort of like mourning St. George's loss to the dragon: it's not only wrong but insulting.

You get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn't. You get to decide what to worship.

I wish you way more than luck.

Fiction, poetry, music...these are the places (for me) where loneliness is countenanced, stared down, transfigured, treated.

Perhaps this is what it means to go mad: to be emptied and to be aware of the emptiness.

The capital-T Truth is about life before death. It is about making it to 30, or maybe 50, without wanting to shoot yourself in the head.