Highly Illogical Behavior

We’re just floating in space trying to figure out what it means to be human.

You’re like Lady Macbeth without the murder.” “Thank you. You have no idea how much of a compliment that is to me.

He was afraid of the world, afraid it would find a way to swallow him up. But, maybe everyone was sometimes.

He was an astronaut without a suit, but he was still breathing.

There are no boring places, only boring people,

And then he spent three years wondering why everyone found that so hard to understand. All he was doing was living instead of dying. Some people get cancer. Some people get crazy. Nobody tries to take the chemo away.

As smart as I am, it took a boy stuck in his house to teach me that sometimes it doesn't matter where you are at all. It only matters whos with you.

What he feared the most was that all this hiding had made it impossible for him to ever be found again.

She knew it was weird that she'd reached out to him the way she had. But she also knew that there were a lot of people in the world who regretted never doing the things they felt were right because they were afraid of seeming strange or crazy. Lisa wouldn't settle for that sort of mediocre existence, one bound by invisible social cues. And she had a good feeling that someone like Solomon Reed would appreciate that.

That’s what we do sometimes. We let people disappear. We want them to. If everyone just stays quiet and out of the way, then the rest of us can pretend everything’s fine. But everything is not fine.

She believed in herself maybe more than other people believed in God or the devil or Heaven or Hell.

Jealous of the crazy gay kid. That doesn't sound right." "Hey, Sol," she said, her tone getting serious for a second. "Those are two things about you out of a million. Don't box yourself in.

If you could be any character on The Next Generation, who would you be?" "Easy," Solomon said. "Data. For sure." "That makes sense," Clark said. "You?" "I always liked Wesley Crusher." "What?" Solomon was appalled. "Nobody likes Wesley Crusher." "Why not?" Lisa asked. "Because he's a total Mary Sue," Solomon said. "He's too perfect." "But he's always saving the day," Clark argued. "Like, always." "Exactly. He's just a talking deus ex machina. Everybody on the ship treats him like a dumb kid, then he saves them at the last minute and, every single time, they go right back to treating him like a dumb kid again. Do I need to remind you that the starship Enterprise is full of genius scientists and engineers? Why's this kid who can't get into Starfleet Academy smarter than all of them?" "Good point," Clark said. "He's still my choice, though.

He hasn't left his house in three years, he's not crazy, he's a genius; just tv and videogames twenty four-seven, I think he's my new hero...

He was afraid of the world, afraid it would find a way to swallow him up. But, maybe everyone was sometimes. Maybe some people can just turn it off when they need to. After

Solomon had good days and he had bad days, but the good had far outnumbered the bad since Lisa and Clark had started coming around. Sometimes, though, they'd show up and he's look completely exhausted, drained of all his charm and moving in slow motion. They could do that to him—the attacks. Something about the physical response to panic can drain all the energy out of a person, and it doesn't matter what causes it or how long it lasts. What Solomon had was unforgiving and sneaky and as smart as any other illness. It was like a virus or cancer that would hide just long enough to fool him into thinking it was gone. And because it showed up when it damn well pleased, he'd learned to be honest about it, knowing that embarrassment only made it worse.

I don't want to lie about who I am, even if it doesn't matter. It's who I am. It's part of me.

There are no boring places, only boring people.

And, long after Clark had gone home, Solomon stayed up wondering if everyone falls in love with someone who can't love them back.

But she believed there was a thin line between accepting one's fears and giving in to them altogether.

Now, no matter what they told themselves or each other, it would always be different. After all, no first love goes away overnight, especially one that's always right in front of you, but just out of your reach.

Grandma "It'll keep you from going completely nuts someday and killing us all." Solomon "Is that what you think's going to happen, that I"m going to snap and kill you?" Grandma "Not me you won't. I keep mace in my purse.

But at home, that same day he'd jumped into the fountain, he'd gotten so anxious, pacing around the living room listening to his parents try to calm him, that he suddenly just lost it completely and slapped his face. He immediately started crying, confused and guilty, looking up at his parents like he had no idea how it happened. And, really, that's the way it always was with the hitting. It would happen so fast, his body shaking to release the tension that built up from all the thoughts swirling through his mind and all the air he was having trouble breathing and all the loud beating of his own heart ringing in his ears. It had to get out and that was the path it chose. Slap. Instant relief.

But I know what it's like to constantly think about a life you aren't living.

It was a great laugh - that kind where you can actually hear the 'ha-ha-ha's' if you listen closely enough.

She hadn’t heard the words Star Trek in seven days and it felt amazing. The

If this were an indie movie, we'd start talking about the constellations," Solomon said, looking up at the stars.

Some people sign on for the impossible. And they're the ones everybody remembers.

They say using your imagination makes you live longer.