Brainwalker

Wish me good luck, please,” I whisper. “On one condition,” Philemone says. “Remember, what you call luck is the meeting of opportunity and flexibility.” I smile, weakly. “Good luck,” she says. “Now go.

Be patient with him. If the same quality did not exist in you, you wouldn’t notice it in him.

No need to be afraid. I’m just a Holon.” “Huh?” “A Holon. What are you?” “You mean who am I?” I correct him. “No, what are you?” “I’m not a what. I’m a who.” “How can you be a who if you’re not a what?” “What?

It’s pretty confusing.” “Good. Be confused. Confusion is where inspiration comes from.

Isn’t that what it means to be a scientist? To push the boundaries of the unknown? To bravely, actively explore the enormity of our universe ?

Life is funny that way. Sometimes the dumbest thing you do turns out to be the smartest.

Right? I don’t know why I did it. Temporary insanity, maybe. Did you ever do something that makes absolutely no sense, but you couldn’t help yourself?