A clerk and a ladder and warm golden light, and then: the right book exactly, at exactly the right time.

You know, I'm really starting to think the whole world is just a patchwork quilt of crazy little cults, all with their own secret spaces, their own records, their own rules.

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

I'd sit at my kitchen table and start scanning help-wanted ads on my laptop, but then a browser tab would blink and I'd get distracted and follow a link to a long magazine article about genetically modified wine grapes. Too long, actually, so I'd add it to my reading list. Then I'd follow another link to a book review. I'd add the review to my reading list, too, then download the first chapter of the book—third in a series about vampire police. Then, help-wanted ads forgotten, I'd retreat to the living room, put my laptop on my belly, and read all day. I had a lot of free time.

...I can’t stop squirming. If fidgets were Wikipedia edits, I would have completely revamped the entry on guilt by now, and translated it into five new languages.

If this sounds impressive to you, you’re over thirty.

America pays defense contractors to build aircraft carriers. Google pays brilliant programmers to do whatever the hell they want.