That’s the secret to performance: conviction. The right note played tentatively still misses its mark, but play boldly and no one will question you. If one believes there is truth in art – and I do – then it’s troubling how similar the skill of performing is to lying. Maybe lying is itself a kind of art. I think about that more than I should.

For future reference: do not underestimate the seductive power of math.

The twin gods, Necessity and Chance, walked among the stars. What needed to be, was; what might be, sometimes was.

I had felt the shot coming; I hadn't realized the bow was loaded with this very quarrel, perfectly calibrated to hit him hardest. What part of me had been studying him, stockpiling knowledge as ammunition?

The world inside myself is vaster and richer than this paltry plane, peopled with mere galaxies and gods.

I cannot perch among those who think that I am broken.

I was drawn to his aloofness, the way cats gravitate toward people who’d rather avoid them.