When I was born I became the visible corner of a folded map. The map has more than one route. More than one destination. The map that is the unfolding self is not exactly leading anywhere. The arrow that says YOU ARE HERE is your first coordinate. There is a lot that you can't change when you are a kid. But you can pack for the journey.

Yes, the past is another country, but one that we can visit, and once there we can bring back the things we need.

Two hundred miles from the surface of the earth there is no gravity. The laws of motion are suspended. You could turn somersaults slowly slowly, weight into weightlessness, nowhere to fall. As you lay on your back paddling in space you might notice your feet had fled your head. You are stretching slowly slowly, getting longer, your joints are slipping away from their usual places. There is no connection between your shoulder and your arm. You will break up bone by bone, fractured from who you are, drifting away now, the centre cannot hold.

Language always betrays us, tells the truth when we want to lie, and dissolves into formlessness when we would most like to be precise.

The curious are always in some danger. If you are curious you might never come home.

I don't understand why people talk of art as a luxury when it's a mind-altering possibility.

We shall all die, and our lives will be irrelevant then.