I knew a highly accomplished American pair. Filled with the times and their excellence and love, they decided to adopt a child from a world's hellhole, and take on the world's evil. they did, and so the world showed them what evil was.
When we cannot remember having loved each other, we become ordinary. The world is shattered. The world does not care.
“She broke my heart.” Really, she handed it back to you. It was nothing personal; it was merely that she was done with it. Besides, you might need to give it to someone else.
We’ve stopped staring at the sky in dumbfounded wonder – did anything change? The city lights to smother them, of course, but the decision not to decide, the triumph of indeterminacy. A choice of cowardice.
There are colors bees know, sounds and patterns birds know, emotions we only feel when are brains reach a certain stage of physical development. Yet they say this is our one world. In fact, in our time similar things are emerging around us.
We are like a people in the middle of a great and long war, numb to our feelings. Like them, we will not even know we were numb until it ends.
Our work is the recognition and manufacture of ghosts.
The job of the world is dreaming. When we conceive of God, we think he cares about what we do when we are awake. What if he does not care about that, but wants to harvest the dreams?
The dream of artificial intelligence: Someday we will build machines with their own consciousness. And of course, they will be interested in us. What presumption!
Compassion is not finite. Nor, fate teaches, is grief.