This girl has the spark of life. This is my primary filter for new friends (girl- and otherwise) and the highest compliment I can pay. I've tried many times to figure out exactly what ignites it -- what cocktail of characteristics come together in the cold, dark cosmos to form a star. I know it's mostly in the face -- not just the eyes, but the brow, the cheeks, the mouth, and the micromuscles that connect them all. Kat's micromuscles are very attractive.

All the secrets of the world worth knowing are hiding in plain site.

Kat bought a New York Times but couldn’t figure out how to operate it, so now she’s fiddling with her phone.

... nothing lasts long. We all come to life and gather allies and build empires and die, all in a single moment - maybe a single pulse of some giant processor somewhere.

I feel a little whirl of dislocation -- the trademark sensation of the world being more closely knit together than you expected

Imagination runs out. But it makes sense, right? We probably just imagine things based on what we already know, and we run out of analogies in the thirty-first century.

Are there sexual fetishes that involve books? There must be. I try not to imagine how they might work.