Time weighs down on you like an old, ambiguous dream. You keep on moving, trying to slip through it. But even if you go to the ends of the earth, you won’t be able to escape it. Still, you have to go there—to the edge of the world. There’s something you can’t do unless you get there.

“Every one of us is losing something precious to us,” he says after the phone stops ringing. “Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That’s part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads—at least that’s where I imagine it—there’s a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in

But things in the past are like a plate that’s shattered to pieces. You can never put it back together like it was, right?”

“Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.”

Things outside you are projections of what’s inside you, and what’s inside you is a projection of what’s outside. So when you step into the labyrinth outside you, at the same time you’re stepping into the labyrinth inside.

Which means that the principle for the labyrinth is inside you. And that correlates to the labyrinth outside.”

“The world would be a real mess if everybody was a genius. Somebody’s got to keep watch, take care of business.”

The people who build high, strong fences are the ones who survive the best. You deny that reality only at the risk of being driven into the wilderness yourself.”

A life without revelation is no life at all.