maybe the meaning of life lies in looking for it

As for reading, I wish I had a magic door to a library where I could go in, read for days and days, and come back in the same minute I left. I'm still looking for the door.

Your turn has come to sift through the dreck of humanity for rare specks of originality

One fine day a predatory world shall consume itself.

Leaves turned to soil beneath my feet. Thus it is, trees eat themselves.

The world never stops unmaking what the world never stops making. But who says the world has to make sense?

I really wish they hadn't made the set out of asbestos.