I’m a grenade and at some point I’m going to blow up and I would like to minimize the casualties, okay?
I enjoy looking at beautiful people, and I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simpler pleasures of existence.
I believe the universe wants to be noticed. I think the universe is improbably biased toward consciousness, that it rewards intelligence in part because the universe enjoys its elegance being observed. And who am I, living in the middle of history, to tell the universe that it—or my observation of it—is temporary?
Contemporaneity specializes in the kind of battles wherein no one loses anything of any value, except arguably their lives.
But I believe in true love, you know? I don’t believe that everybody gets to keep their eyes or not get sick or whatever, but everybody should have true love, and it should last at least as long as your life does.