Probably." "Again with the probablys." "A world full of probablys," she said.

Human beings are ultimately nothing but carriers-passageways- for genes. They ride us into the ground like racehorses from generation to generation. Genes don't think about what constitutes good or evil. They don't care whether we are happy or unhappy. We're just means to an end for them. The only thing they think about is what is most efficient for them.

I dream. Sometimes I think that's the only right thing to do.

Gazing at the rain, I consider what it means to belong, to become part of something. To have someone cry for me.

It was spring break, so the theater was always packed with high schools students. It was an animal house. I wanted to burn the place down.

And everywhere, infinite options, infinite possibilities. An infinity, and at the same time, zero. We try to scoop it all up in our hands, and what we get is a handful of zero. That's the city

When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happened to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we'd be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing.