More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
no one loves anyone cos no one knows anyone, people just know their ideas of each other
The past is not real. Like, it doesn’t mean anything. The fifteen-year-old me I remember today isn’t the fifteen-year-old me I remembered when I was twenty-five, and it won’t be the fifteen-year-old I remember when I’m eighty. You know why? Because the past is just…random stuff, floating about the place. None of it means anything at all until you make a story out of it.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot. You care about humanity. The idea of people. You just can’t stand actual flesh-and-blood human beings.
