You only have to forgive once. To resent, you have to do it all day, every day.

Once a child gets into your heart, there’s no right or wrong about it.

History is that which is agreed upon by mutual consent.

You only have to forgive once. To resent, you have to do it all day, every day.

When he wakes sometimes from dark dreams of broken cradles, and compasses without bearings, he pushes the unease down, lets the daylight contradict it. And isolation lulls him with the music of the lie.

It is a luxury to do something that serves no practical purpose: the luxury of civilization.

Humans withdraw to their homes, and surrender the night to the creatures that own it: the crickets, the owls, the snakes. A world that hasn't changed for hundreds of thousands of years wakes up, and carries on as if the daylight and the humans and the changes to the landscape have all been an illusion.