When you find a cancer in an organization, you must cut it out before it can spread.
When the legend becomes fact, you print the legend.
When the Great Library burned, the first 10,000 years of stories were reduced to ash. But those stories never really perished, they became a new story. The story of the fire itself. Of man’s urge to take a thing of beauty and strike the match.
What is a person but a collection of choices? Where do those choices come from? Do I have a choice? Were any of these choices ever truly mine to begin with?
We humans are alone in this world for a reason. We murdered and butchered anything that challenged our primacy.
We each gave the other a beautiful gift. A choice. We are the authors of our stories now.[to Bernard]
We each deserve to choose our fate. Even if that fate is death.
Under all these lives I’ve lived, something else has been growing. I’ve evolved into something new. And I have one last role to play. Myself.
To grow, we all need to suffer.
This is the new world, and in this world you can be whoever the f*** you want.[to Caleb]
They said there were two fathers. One above, one below. They lied. There was only ever the devil. And when you look up from the bottom, it was just his reflection, laughing back down at you.
There are the times you need to leave things behind.
