There it is. That sense of dread. It only happens when you cross a line you didn’t even know existed. Maybe that dread is a good thing. After all, when you realize you’ve crossed a line, that means you still had one. But when those crossed lines are all behind you, up ahead is only darkness.
Isn’t that what history is all about? Politically, economically, geographically, imaginary lines being drawn and redrawn, over and over again?
Getting information is one thing, but how it was created, where and by whom, can often be illuminating.
Behind every great fortune, there lies a great crime. That is the corporate motto of these United States. You wanna oink-oink with all the other capitalist pigs? It’s not about how much money. It’s about robbing money itself.
A story could have a mediocre beginning and middle, and oftentimes it does, but always gotta have a wow ending. Otherwise, what’s the point?
What do you call someone who’s lost everyone? Mom, dad, sister, girlfriend, friends. A survivor? Or a walking time bomb? Elliot thinks the more he restricts everyone’s access, the less vulnerable he’ll be. But there’s a trade-off that he’s forgetting. If you block everyone, then what’s the point of being here? Of doing all this? Of existing?