A Beautifully Foolish Endeavor (The Carls, #2)

by Hank Green

Obviously, this is a profoundly unrelatable frustration, but we all only have our own lives to live inside of.

Fair point. Can anyone blame anyone for being only able to live one life?

And I was listening to Hamilton and I heard that song and I realized that, well, not everyone is ambitious enough to want to be the one making the thing happen, but everyone, I think, to some extent wants to be in the room where it happens. They might not want to write their favorite book, or paint their favorite painting, or vote the bill into law, but everyone wants to be in the room. We want to witness it. We want to feel like we are part of these things that, like, really matter.

“Jesus, guys are screwed up, aren’t we. There’s no space between being emotional and making out. How have any of us survived? We’re so bad at this.”

And so, ironically, the Altus Space became my only respite from the prison that Altus had put me in.

The internet became my only respite from the prison that the internet put me in.

Most people who have power, they don’t have it for reasons, they just have it.”

“Power is just a lack of constraint.”

You will always struggle with not feeling productive until you accept that your own joy can be something you produce. It is not the only thing you will make, nor should it be, but it is something valuable and beautiful.

“I love you.” The words seemed so careful. “You are so … human. You still think it had to be someone. It wasn’t anyone, it was all of you.”