Everything is the way it is because everything was the way it was. Sometimes I feel ensnared in this, as if no matter what I do, what will come has already been fixed.

But come. No explaining or mending. Be beside me somewhere.

I need an office, so I can have a place where I don't write.

The more exposure people have to the realities of factory farming, the more we will see people rejecting it. It's already happening.

The books could be completely worthless, and things we don't even read now could be considered the most important books.

Grandfather kicked the stop pedal, and my face gave a high-five to the front window.

People don’t care enough. They don’t get worked up enough. They don’t get angry enough. They don’t get passionate enough. I’d rather somebody hate what I do than be indifferent to it.