Strange, I thought, how you can be living your dreams and your nightmares at the very same time.
Your tribe is out there, you just have to find them.
Sometimes it's better not to look back.
Maybe it was better, now and then, to wonder.
So one day my mother sat me down and explained that I couldn’t become an explorer because everything in the world had already been discovered. I’d been born in the wrong century, and I felt cheated.
If I never went home, what exactly would I be missing? I pictured my cold cavernous house, my friendless town full of bad memories, the utterly unremarkable life that had been mapped out for me. It had never once occurred to me, I realized, to refuse it.