我
I accept chaos, I’m not sure whether it accepts me.
I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.
I think of a hero as someone who understands the degree of responsibility that comes with his freedom.
All I can do is be me, whoever that is.
I think of my pile of old paperbacks, their pages gone wobbly, like they’d once belonged to the sea.
I keep thinking about this river somewhere, with the water moving really fast. And these two people in the water, trying to hold onto each other, holding on as hard as they can, but in the end it’s just too much. The current’s too strong. They’ve got to let go, drift apart.
The problem, as I see it, is that you’ve been told to believe that what you do is of the utmost importance. But that’s all nonsense.
There was another life that I might have had, but I am having this one.
Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don’t go along with that. The memories I value most, I don’t ever see them fading.
We are all stories in the end.
The greatest truths are often the ones we cannot put into words.
The past is not behind us; it is within us.
The more we know, the more we realize how little we know.
The world is full of invisible threads connecting us all.
The greatest journeys are the ones that change us without our noticing.
The stories we tell shape the world we live in.
The future is a story we are writing with every choice we make.
The most dangerous stories are the ones we believe without question.
The body is a map of all our journeys.