The longer human beings exist, it seems, the less likely we are to choose to be brave.

Imagination is a place where all the important answers live.

The boy detective thinks, The only thing all men have in common with one another is their inherent capacity to make mistakes. He reasons, But there is wonder in the attempt, knowing we are all destined to fall short, but forgoing reason and fear time and time again so deliberately.

What I've learned is that there is nothing in this life that does not fail to disappoint us, even our own deaths.

Above the dirt of an unmarked grave and beneath the shadow of the abandoned refinery, the children would play their own made up games: Wild West Accountants! in which they would calculate the loss of a shipment of gold stolen from an imaginary stagecoach, or Recently Divorced Scientists! in which they would build a super-collider out of garbage to try and win back their recently lost loves.

Maybe that's why people have friends at all. Not because they like them so much but because they don't make them feel so much worse.

Our worlds are so momentary. We are along all our lives and then go off that way as well.