You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.

Our love was the affliction for which only our love was the cure.

The only way to overcome sadness is to consume it.

If we are not given the option to live without violence, we are given the choice to center our meals around harvest or slaughter, husbandry or war. We have chosen slaughter. We have chosen war. That's the truest version of our story of eating animals. Can we tell a new story?

I got incredibly heavy boots about how relatively insignificant life is, and how, compared to the universe and compared to time, it didn’t even matter if I existed at all.

I'm sorry for my inability to let unimportant things go, for my inability to hold on to the important things.

I desperately wish I had my tambourine with me now, because even after everything I'm still wearing heavy boots, and sometimes it helps to play a good beat