You need demarcation." "Demarcation?" I asked. "It means a clear separation between two things," he told me. "A solid end before a clean beginning. No murky borders. Clarity.

And that was it. All this buildup to a great leap, and I didn't fall or fly. Instead I found myself back on the edge of the cliff, blinking, wondering if I'd ever jumped at all. It's not supposed to be like this.

But it was too early to know: there were always more pages to go, more words to be written, before the story was over.

So I left him there alone to watch history repeat the same events retold again and again on his own.

Conciseness is underrated

It's all in the view. That's what I mean about forever, too. For any one of us our forever could end in an hour, or a hundred years from now. You never know for sure, so you'd better make every second count.

It’s the things you fight for and struggle with before earning that have the greatest worth.