Fear cannot be without hope nor hope without fear. -Baruch Spinoza.
He said roughly thirty percent of everything we see is hallucination. It’s our brain smoothing things over so the world’s not so pixelated.
No more waiting for things to break before we fix them, but to go around and make them hum while they’re still working. Too many issues have been ignored, let degrade.
This is the missing episode of Planet Earth, he realized. They never did a show on the most bizarre life form of them all: humans.
Humans have this disease, Donny, this compulsion to move until we bump into something. And then we tunnel through that something, or we sail over the edge of the oceans, or we stagger across mountains –.
But a stronger impulse seized the popular imagination: the ability to be great overnight. It was a new type of lottery, one where fame and talent were won rather than simple money.
And not just the wilds of sand and dune but the wilds of life, those years in a man’s twenties when he shrugs off the shelter of youth and before he has bothered to erect his own. The tent-less years. The bright and blinding years in which men wander as the planets do.
You make us fear each other, fear you, and so we send our own people out, and the world gets poisoned by our hate and our fear, doesn’t it?” “I.
He turned the coin over and over and contemplated the only thing unusual about him holding a trinket from a world fallen to ashes – and that was him being around to marvel at the loss. It was supposed to be people who died and cultures that lasted. Now, it was the other way around;.
The fact that the universe can come to this, that anyone finds it normal, is comically absurd.
The fact that you are alive is hilarious. The fact that the universe can come to this, that anyone finds it normal, is comically absurd.
I was beautiful, once, you know.’ Mrs. Crowe withdrew her hands and folded them in her lap. ‘Once that’s gone, once it leaves us for good, no one will ever see it again.
Time slipped away in a familiar manner, and love dwindled as it was tossed back and forth in the form of arguments. It could only go away, everything she saw and everywhere she looked. Money. It disappeared from her accounts no matter how hard she tried to save. Time and love and wealth and anything worth building or wrapping one’s arms around, trying to hold on to it all, eroding like the cascade of sand between two palms, stolen by the breeze.
All that remained was the curiosity of it all. The wonder of the outside world beyond the veil of lies.
The cycle of life is here. It is inescapable. It is to be embraced, cherished, appreciated. One departs and leaves behind the gift of sustenance, of life.
People from IT sent to replace those they’d killed. Juliette’s.
And she knew it was time to start getting the images of dead things out of her mind. Or at least, to bury them a while.
Little fictions. That’s what her father called them. Not lies, just stories to twist the brain into a new shape, to allow the light to spill in with a different color, to throw rainbows instead of shadows.
What was any group but a bunch of people? And what were people but animals as prone to fear as rats at the sound of boots? “ – catch.
At this point in my boating education, I didn’t even know what a “norther” was. Nor did I appreciate what happens when wind blows against the direction of a current. I can tell you now what happens: The wind pushing against the flowing water causes the seas to build and build. They go vertical. They get steep. They form cliffs of ocean blue that boats can fall right off. I’d never heard of nor imagined such a thing. Scott and I were about to see such waves up close.