Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.
Do I believe a thing has limits!? Of course! Nothing exists that doesn__ have limits. Existence means there__ always something else, and so everything has limits. Why is it so hard to conceive that a thing is a thing, and that it isn__ always being some other thing that__ beyond it?__t that moment I felt in my bones not that I was talking to a man, but to another universe. I tried one last time, from another angle, which I felt compelled to consider legitimate.__ook, Caeiro... think about numbers... Where do they end? Take any number _ say 34. Past it we have 35, 36, 37, 38 _ there can be no end to it. There is no number so big that there is no number larger...___ut that__ just numbers,_ protested my master Caeiro.And then, looking at me out of his formidable, childlike eyes:__hat is 34 in Reality, anyway?
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Do I believe a thing has limits!? Of course! Nothing exists that doesn__ have limits. Existence means there__ always something else, and so everything has limits. Why is it so hard to conceive that a thing is a thing, and that it isn__ always being some other thing that__ beyond it?__t that moment I felt in my bones not that I was talking to a man, but to another universe. I tried one last time, from another angle, which I felt compelled to consider legitimate.__ook, Caeiro... think about numbers... Where do they end? Take any number _ say 34. Past it we have 35, 36, 37, 38 _ there can be no end to it. There is no number so big that there is no number larger...___ut that__ just numbers,_ protested my master Caeiro.And then, looking at me out of his formidable, childlike eyes:__hat is 34 in Reality, anyway?
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When life is a horror....Don't look like a ghost!
The universe and its design is often one of arbitrary horror.
Bill suited the action to the word, getting up and leaning over the handlebars and pumping the pedals at a lunatic rate. Looking at Bill's back, which was amazingly broad for a boy of eleven-going-on-twelve, watching it work under the duffel coat, the shoulders slanting first one way and then the other as he shifted his weight from one pedal to the other, Richie suddenly became sure that they were invulnerable...they would live forever and ever.
This isn__ how things were supposed to happen. I was supposed to be me. Not this.
Blame is the creed of the disempowered.