Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

by Gabrielle Zevin

How could a person still be as young as he objectively knew himself to be and have had so much time pass?

There is a time for any fledgling artist where one’s taste exceeds one’s abilities.

It isn’t a sadness, but a joy, that we don’t do the same things for the length of our lives.”

She had thought she arrived. But life was always arriving. There was always another gate to pass through. (Until, of course, there wasn’t.) She walked through another gate. What was a gate anyway? A doorway, she thought. A portal. The possibility of a different world. The possibility that you might walk through the door and reinvent yourself as something better than you had been before.

and you think, Humans want so much. I am glad to be a bird.

As they travel closer to your room, you determine it’s that Joni Mitchell song that makes everyone want to kill themselves,

“These images make me feel…I don’t know the word. I guess they make me feel.”

“Yes, Marx and Sadie. They loved you.” “Is two considered many?” Sam asked. “It depends on how good the friendships are,” Dong Hyun said.

But now, it seemed like one of the easiest things in the world Sam could do. Why wouldn’t you tell someone you loved them? Once you loved someone, you repeated it until they were tired of hearing it. You said it until it ceased to have meaning. Why not? Of course, you goddamn did.