Here’s to all the places we went. And all the places we’ll go. And here’s to me, whispering again and again and again and again: iloveyou
Without pain, how could we know joy?’ This is an old argument in the field of thinking about suffering and its stupidity and lack of sophistication could be plumbed for centuries but suffice it to say that the existence of broccoli does not, in any way, affect the taste of chocolate.
"There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be a time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it.
God knows that’s what everyone else does.”
At once, it’s clear I cannot gush. We try playing me cocky, but I just don’t have the arrogance. Apparently, I’m too ‘vulnerable’ for ferocity. I’m not witty. Funny. Sexy. Or mysterious. By the end of the session I am no one at all. Haymitch started drinking somewhere around witty, and a nasty edge has crept into his voice. ‘I give up, sweetheart. Just answer the questions and try not to let the audience see how openly you despise them.’
So I just finished “A Dance With Dragons”
Holy. Sweet. Hell.
And book six doesn’t come out for like… three years.
Great. Now what?