If I were dead, I wouldn't be sad, and I wouldn't be glad, because I wouldn't be.

There never was a story that was happy through and through.

And if I really can see the future, then what does it mean? Is there any sense in our lives if everything is already out there, just waiting to happen? For if that were so, then life would be a horrible monster indeed, with no chance of escape from fate, from destiny. It would be like reading a book, but reading it backwards, from the final chapter down to chapter one, so that the end is already known to you.

Stories twist and turn and grow and meet and give birth to other stories. Here and there, one story touches another, and a familiar character, sometimes the hero, walks over the bridge from one story into another.

If a life can be ruined in a single moment, a moment of betrayal, or violence, or ill luck, then why can a life not also be saved, be worth living, be made, by just a few pure moments of perfection?

A story has its purpose and its path. It must be told correctly for it to be understood.

If I were dead, I wouldn't be sad, and I wouldn't be glad, because I wouldn't be.