I’ve always felt almost human. I’ve always known that there’s something about me that’s different than other dogs. Sure, I’m stuffed into a dog’s body, but that’s just the shell. It’s what’s inside that’s important. The soul. And my soul is very human.
What I want now is what I’ve always wanted.
To live every day as if it had been stolen from death, that is how I would like to live.
I’ll give you a theory: Man’s closest relative is not the chimpanzee, as the TV people believe, but is, in fact, the dog.
Can we not will ourselves to achieve the impossible? Can we not use the power of our life force to change something: one small thing, one insignificant moment, one breath, one gesture? Is there nothing we can do to change what is around us?
Any problems that may occur have ultimately been caused by you, because you are responsible for where you are and what you are doing there.
She was my rain. She was my unpredictable element. She was my fear. But a racer should not be afraid of rain; a racer should embrace the rain.
Rain amplifies your mistakes, and water on the track can make your car handle unpredictably. When something unpredictable happens you have to react to it; if you’re reacting at speed, you’re reacting too late. And so you should be afraid.
Because memory is time folding back on itself. To remember is to disengage from the present. In order to reach any kind of success in automobile racing, a driver must never remember.
Very gently. Like there are eggshells on your pedals, and you don’t want to break them. That’s how you drive in the rain.
Your car goes where your eyes go. Lonliness is unable to survive without a willing host.
And I wonder: Have I squandered my dogness? Have I forsaken my nature for my desires? Have I made a mistake by anticipating my future and shunning my present?
I know in this time of great technological advancement, the idea of reading a book seems almost anachronistic, but I think it’s worth preserving.
Gestures are all that I have; sometimes they must be grand in nature.
We are all afforded our physical existence so we can learn about ourselves.
The visible becomes inevitable...
In racing, they say that your car goes where your eyes go. The driver who cannot tear his eyes away from the wall as he spins out of control will meet that wall; the driver who looks down the track as he feels his tires break free will regain control of his vehicle.
We had a good run, and now it’s over; what’s wrong with that?
Using a dog as a narrator has limitations and it has advantages. The limitations are that a dog cannot speak. A dog has no thumbs. A dog can’t communicate his thoughts except with gestures.
So what if man’s body evolved from the monkeys? Whether he came from monkeys or fish is unimportant. The important idea is that when the body became “human” enough, the first human soul slipped into it.