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“You want to split a dessert?” She smiled. “No way, kiddo. I want my own. I need something big and gooey, with lots and lots of chocolate.”
So I sat at the kitchen table chopping the “holy trinity” of Creole cuisine—bell peppers, celery, and onions—while
I was born in the year 2282,” Katherine began.
My father’s chosen gift was chemistry. My mother’s chosen gift was logic,
“What exactly is CHRONOS? I saw that in several diary entries.” “Chrono-Historical Research Organization and Natural Observation Society,”
How much time is wasted today training children to perform a variety of skills that they not only will never use but would never even consider using?
“Don’t get me wrong—people still learned about subjects beyond their occupation. We still had hobbies and avocations. But we all knew
the general route to our primary destination when the journey began, and we didn’t regret the destination, nor did we have any desire to change it. After all, our genetic makeup ensured that we would be far better at our jobs than anything else we attempted—and far better at our jobs than others, who did not have that chosen gift, could ever be.”
When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, is the truth.’”
“Hey, there’s a bright side for you—no homework.” “I don’t actually mind homework. Well, most homework.” “Really?” he asked. “How do you feel about other people’s homework? I’m seeing great possibilities in this relationship.”
“The Religious Society of Friends, often called Quakers, was the earliest religious group in America to both oppose slavery and to promote equality for women.
“All major religions have rules against murder. If they didn’t, there would be few converts. Well, at least few converts that you’d want to be in the same room with. But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t plenty of people willing to kill in the name of their faith—that’s true of most religions.”
As I’m reading Katherine’s historical diaries, every now and then I’ll see a question that Katherine asked, like, ‘Who is the Infanta?’ or ‘What is a simoleon?’” “In SimCity, a simoleon is money,” Trey interjected. “Yes—it was slang for a dollar back in the late 1800s.
Katherine opened a bottle of wine for a toast. She hesitated before pouring for Trey, although he assured her that his family had a very European view of wine consumption.
“History is sacred—like a nature hike. ‘Leave only footprints, take only memories.’”
“I like you better as an old lady. You need time to mellow.”
