One of my own stray childhood fears had been to wonder what a whale might feel like had it been born and bred in captivity, then released into the wild-into its ancestral sea-its limited world instantly blowing up when cast into the unknowable depths, seeing strange fish and tasting new waters, not even having a concept of depth, not knowing the language of any whale pods it might meet. It was my fear of a world that would expand suddenly, violently, and without rules or laws: bubbles and seaweed and storms and frightening volumes of dark blue that never end.

It is indeed a mistake to confuse children with angels

Canadian winters are long. Life is hard and so is ice.

what I remember is the silence in spite of the noise. In my head it might just as well have been a snowy day in the country.

If a building looks better under construction than it does when finished, then it's a failure.

Make your goals big and broad enough so that they never become answered prayers and boomerang to curse you.

Failure is authentic, and because it's authentic, it's real and genuine, and because of that, it's a pure state of being.