Time really is one big continuous cloth, no? We habitually cut out pieces of time to fit us, so we tend to fool ourselves into thinking that time is our size, but it really goes on and on.

Is action merely the incidental product of thought, or is thought the consequential product of action?

It was a short one-paragraph item in the morning edition.

What I think is this: You should give up looking for lost cats and start searching for the other half of your shadow.

Time really is one big continuous cloth, no? We habitually cut out pieces of time to fit us, so we tend to fool ourselves into thinking that time is our size, but it really goes on and on.

You might think you made a new world or a new self, but your old self is always gonna be there, just below the surface, and if something happens, it'll stick its head out and say 'Hi.' You don't seem to realize that. You were made somewhere else.

It seems to me that very sad things always contain an element of the comical