A doorway, she thought. A portal. The possibility of a different world. The possibility that you might walk through the door and reinvent yourself as something better than you had been before.
Sometimes, he would make a villain of her and imagine ways that she had slighted him: that time she had turned away from him; that time she had avoided his eyes. But she hadn’t done those things – it would have been almost better if she had.
How do I go on when the person I love most in the world is in love with someone else?
Shinto tradition, a gate represented passing from the mundane to the sacred.
I want to know your ideas,” Sam said. “I really want to know them. I love hearing your ideas. That’s my favorite thing in the world.
They did have a secret. The secret was the delight one feels when discovering a person who speaks one’s native tongue.
Come on, Sadie. There’ll always be another class. How many times can you look at something and know that everyone around you is seeing the same thing or at the very least that their brains and eyes are responding to the same phenomenon? How much proof do you ever have that we’re all in the same world?
You don’t want to meet someone like you too early in your life, or you won’t ever like anyone else.
Die Liebe ist Konstante und Variable zugleich.
The doctor had installed a portal that connected Emily’s store to her house, allowing her to bypass her commute. The portal was sage green and had three golden dots painted on the side: Emily studied the dots. “Is that an upside-down ‘therefore’ symbol?” “When the dots are placed this way, they mean ‘because.’ I know my house is closer to town than yours. If you do ever decide to marry me,” Daedalus said, “I did not wish convenience to be a factor in your decision.
She didn’t want to ascribe characteristics to her that were not truly hers. A good game designer knows that clinging to a few early ideas about a project can cut off the potential for the work. Sadie did not feel that Naomi was altogether a person yet, which was another thing that one could not admit.
There is no purity in art. The process of how you arrive at something doesn’t matter at all. The game is going to be completely original because we made it.
Sam fully got what she was trying to do, but he also believed that she would have to do more if she were to make games that people loved, not just games that people admired.
My god, she thought, he is so easy to love.
No loss is permanent, because nothing is permanent, ever.
She knew that the presence of the timesheet made it seem as if she had an ulterior motive, though the truth was obvious to her: Sadie Green liked being praised, and Sam Masur was the best friend she had ever had.
They loved him. He was more handsome in front of a crowd; his limp, less apparent; his voice, warm and authoritative. It was as if all these years Sam had been waiting for an audience.
Anders Larsson, was standing over him, looking like a blond Jesus in North Face.
And as much as a person might try to shield herself from it, the possibility for the other outcome was always there. We are all living, at most, half of a life, she thought. There was the life that you lived, which consisted of the choices you made. And then, there was the other life, the one that was the things you hadn’t chosen. And sometimes, this other life felt as palpable as the.
About a week before the winter break – they were still young enough to understand time in semesters.
They were tired, but it was an honest tiredness, the kind that comes when you know you have put everything you have into a project.