What's a bar bill but a surtax on reality?

The belief that tomorrow is a different place from today is certainly a unique hallmark of our species.

Purchased experiences don't count.

Nobody believes the identities we've made for ourselves. I feel like everybody in the world is fake now - as though people had true cores once, but hucked them away and replaced them with something more attractive but also hollow.

I think it takes an amazing amount of energy to convince oneself that the Forever Person isn't just around the corner. In the end I believe we never do convince ourselves. I know that I found it increasingly hard to maintain the pose of emotional self-sufficiency lying on my bed and sitting at my desk, watching the gulls cartwheeling in the clouds over the bridges, cradling myself in my own arms, breathing warm chocolate-and-vodka breath on a rose I had found on a street corner, trying to force it to bloom.

What's a bar bill but a surtax on reality?

Besides, animals don’t even have time. Only humans have time. It’s what makes us different.