I felt, that night, on that stage, under that skull, incredibly close to everything in the universe, but also extremely alone. I wondered, for the first time in my life, if life was worth all the work it took to live. What exactly made it worth it? What's so horrible about being dead forever, and not feeling anything, and not even dreaming? What's so great about feeling and dreaming?

I imagine a line, a white line, painted on the sand and on the ocean, from me to you.

It is not a thing that you can imagine. It only is. After that, there can be no imagining.

We could imagine all sorts of universes unlike this one, but this is the one that happened.

Once you hear something, you can never return to the time before you heard it.

Is there really anyone, besides Rudy Giuliani, who prefers the new Times Square?

I'm less worried about accomplishment - as younger people always can't help but be - and more concerned with spending my time well, spending time with my family, and reading, learning things.