Because everybody who has ever lost their way in life has felt the nagging insistence of that question. At some point we all look up and realize we are lost in a maze, and I dont want us to forget Alaska, and I don't want to forget that even when the material we study seems boring, we're trying to und3erstand how people answered that question and the question each of you posed in your papers--how different traditions have come to terms with what Chip, in his final, called 'people's rotten lots in life.

I'd rather wonder than get answers I couldn't live with.

How do you just stop being terrified of getting left behind and ending up by yourself forever and not meaning anything to the world?

Sunlight feels warm and rough against your skin like a kiss on the cheek from your dad.

Keys show up when you reconcile yourself to the bus.

But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defensless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get." I know what she's talking about. The something deeper and more secret. It's like cracks inside of you. Like there are these fault lines where things don't meet up right.

Does he have ugly hands? Sometimes beautiful people have ugly hands." "No he has kind of amazing hands.