Jose and Reuben and N– and A– and Murikami and Copland and Cary, the bastard. And Justin the dead and Jon the great. And I am old and dying, like everyone, like all of them.
And Aisha Barnes must die and Kathryn Romney the wise and Miner the miner and the grass. And Bonella the thief and JJ the imprisoned and All Over The World, All Over The World, and Marriott in the dark and the end of time, over and over and over again.
Busses and busses of sorrow and stops late at night in the slow underneath the big clock and the urban glow and the doubt, the doubt, the doubt, and the risk.
And the east side and the west side and the wealthy and the naive.
Shoe-bops and Buddy’s and the Speedway and Monk’s and the invisible man and the guitar girl and her biker father in the mist. And the night of a thousand corpses and the cargo time in the tiny car and the policewoman in the book.
And running and running more and the giant wooden indian head and the dying and the departure and the end of time again.
Happiness is being able to tell the truth without ever hurting anyone, but the only way you can do that is if everyone who must hear it already hates you so badly that they don’t care what you say, and then you can be completely, brutally honest them without risk. You would think that it applies to love, too, if the truth is nice, but it doesn’t, because with love there’s always the chance that you can lose it, no matter how positive you’re trying to be, so you can’t ever really be risk-free or hurt-free in love.
Only with your enemies can you tell the truth without ever hurting anyone.
That’s why: happiness is enemies.
Doctor Time and Professor Click. Talk to me, talk to me.
On the road, on the road, on the road, on the road, on the road, on the road, on the road
There is no better way to be driven to success than to be driven to distraction.
Necessity is not the mother of invention, discomfort is the mother of invention.
Love and hate are mirror images that lie at one end the spectrum that stretches between interest and boredom.
It is clear that dogs are wiser than us because they choose to be happier, less independent, and less long-lived.
It is the surfaces of the rivers and the oceans that hold all of the souls once they have abandoned the troublesome third dimension.
All memories are stored in lines tangent to events. All events are stored precisely at moments of force. All moments of force are represented by a simple iterative identity: x = x!
Interestingly, chess moves are also factorials, but they take into account factors like the paranoia of the king.
Alice didn’t wake up; she died.
“I am trying my best to hate them all, mother, I really am.”