There were millions of ways that the world could kill me.
There is surely a piece of divinity in us, something that was before the elements, and owes no homage unto the sun.
I am free of all prejudice. I hate everyone equally.
Memory feeds imagination.
Is love supposed to last throughout all time, or is it like trains changing at random stops. If I loved her, how could I leave her? If I felt that way then, how come I don't feel anything now?
Science is nothing but developed perception, interpreted intent, common sense rounded out and minutely articulated.
Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.