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Optimists believed they could change the world. They thought if you looked on the bright side, the less bright side would no longer exist.
Fear was private. It was primal. It was something you guarded because you thought you could defuse it that way.
How could they continue to love each other, having realized that they could not save each other?
In the body she was far from the mind.
It felt insincere, to return a declaration of love. An echo was just a trick of physics.
Humans were monsters but also perfect creations.
Every action had an equal and opposite reaction, and there were more actions and reactions than could be counted on the party’s eight hands.
Nature was fond of repetition.
Worry was infinite.
No one could plead ignorance that was not willful.
Maybe they should feel only awe at life’s mysteries, as children did.
In the vast universe, it was too small to matter.
Ruth didn’t believe in prayer, so she thought of nothing.
G. H. didn’t think morality was a test. It was an ever-shifting set of concerns.
You demanded answers, but the universe refused. Comfort and safety were just an illusion.
The world might have gone mad, but they had not.
Some people started to realize they’d had a naive faith in the system. Some people tried to maintain that system.
Life was like that; life was about change.
