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Kindle Notes & Highlights
He was polite, or just British. Unclear which applied more closely.
No news was good news, sometimes, but sometimes no news was bad news, very bad news indeed. Impossible to tell the difference
Nico’s curiosity (or arrogance, or ambition)
“So,” he said. “I was thinking.” “Don’t hurt yourself,” she murmured.
there was no right answer, no such thing as easy choices. Being good, or knowing what goodness even was—
You didn’t get to choose who hated you, who loved you. Nobody knew better than Callum how little a person could actually control.
as far as forced company goes, you’re incredibly tolerable. Almost decent, really, to be around.
Isn’t this what it is to be human? To want to matter? To have a purpose?
Isn’t that all maturity is in the end? The gradual acceptance of personal idiocy?
She understood it one way and one way alone: that to love was to feel another’s pain as if it were your own.
It was the piece that knew the hardest thing about existence was having a talent for causing suffering and declining to use it because it was bad.
“First of all, we’re dealing in hypotheticals, so all of this is meaningless.”
An existential paradox, clinging to the belief that humans were good when humanity as a collective was rubbish.
