Gleanings (Arc of a Scythe)

by Neal Shusterman

For if my study of human nature has taught me anything, it is that truth and conviction are not comfortable bedfellows, and what one believes will often cast out that which is true.

We need an event that will never be forgotten, Xenocrates had told him. And as always, Carson was an overachiever.

But Xenocrates didn’t seem concerned. “A small matter. It’s not as if I’ll be swimming in it.”

Hate to break it to you bud

“Very well. I do predict great things for Honorable Scythe Robert Goddard.” The young man who had been Carson Lusk smiled. Great things, indeed. The world had no idea what it was in for.

Do not be afraid of death, Morty once read, for is it not simply the same void from whence we first emerged?

Humanity’s so-called immortality only replaced one impossible question—What do I do with my brief time on Earth?—with another equally impossible one: What do I do with more time than I’ll ever need?

“Art is never finished, merely abandoned,”