Once you think a thought, it is extremely difficult to unthink it.

It was nice - in the dark and the quiet... and her eyes looking back, like there was something in me worth seeing.

Mom sobbed something into Dad's chest that I wish I hadn't heard, and that I hope she never finds out that I did hear. She said, "I won't be a mom anymore." It gutted me pretty badly.

I believe the universe wants to be noticed. I think the universe is inprobably biased toward the consciousness, that it rewards intelligence in part because the universe enjoys its elegance being observed. And who am I, living in the middle of history, to tell the universe that it-or my observation of it-is temporary?

She fell apart because that's what happens.

It's hard to get movie studios to pay a lot of money for movies that don't have robots or explosions.

I just want to do something that matters. Or be something that matters. I just want to matter.