“Maybe it’s all true,” she says. “Maybe you are stealing all your best ideas from your magical fantasyland. But if that world is lost and if, as you claim, you’re the one who lost it, then don’t you owe it to that world to make this one better?” “Better how?” I say. “You have a responsibility,” she says. “You’re the only one who can show us what paradise looks like. You can build us a future to live in. And I mean that literally, build it in brick and steel and glass. You may not think you’re a genius. You may think you’re a fraud, a bandit, a world-killing monster. But you’re all we have.”
