The future is a hundred thousand threads, but the past is a fabric that can never be rewoven.

There's only one thing that will make them stop hating you. And that's being so good at what you do that they can't ignore you

Everybody walks past a thousand story ideas every day.

As he thought of it, though, he could not imagine what “just living” might actually be. He had never done it in his life. But he wanted to do it anyway.

It's all just fictions anyway. We do what we do and then we make up reasons for it afterward but they're never the true reasons, the truth is always just out of reach.

This is how humans are: We question all our beliefs, except for the ones that we really believe in, and those we never think to question.

That is the earth, he thought. Not a globe thousands of kilometers around, but a forest with a shining lake, a house hidden at the crest of a hill, high in the trees, a grassy slope leading upwards from the water, fish leaping and birds strafing to take the bugs that lived at the border between water and sky. Earth was the constant noise of crickets, and winds, and birds