Naïve. Super

A human being weighing 70 kilograms contains among other things: -45 litres of water -Enough chalk to whiten a chicken pen -Enough phosphorus for 2,200 matches -Enough fat to make approximately 70 bars of soap -Enough iron to make a two inch nail -Enough carbon for 9,000 pencil points -A spoonful of magnesium I weigh more than 70 kilograms. And I remember a TV series called Cosmos. Carl Sagan would walk around on a set that was meant to look like space, speaking in large numbers. On one of the shows he sat in front of a tank full of all the substances human beings are made of. He stirred the tank with a stick wondering if he would be able to create life. He didn’t succeed.

We shall never meet, but there is something I want you to know. My time is not the same as your time. Our times are not the same. And do you know what that means? That means that time does not exist. Do you want me to repeat that? There is no time. There is a life and a death. There are people and animals. Our thoughts exist. And the world. The universe, too. But there is no time. You might as well take it easy. Do you feel better now? I feel better. This is going to work out. Have a nice day.

I don't want all that much. But I want to be fine. I want to live a simple life with many good moments and a lot of fun.

There are too many confusing things present. Things I know. Thoughts I have. Sarcasm. Things I think I ought to be doing and places I ought to be going. Always other places.

I still don't know if things fit together, or if everything will be all right in the end. But I believe that something means something. I believe in cleansing the soul through fun and games. I also believe in love. And I have several good friends, and just one bad one.

I think I'm more concerned with things that are very big and things that are very small than with all the stuff in between.

Everything seemed meaningless to me. All of a sudden. My own life, the lives of others, of animals of plants, the whole world. It no longer fitted together.

I have enough trouble with useful information, never mind being burdened with what is useless.

It's good for me to see so many other people who are not me. That there are so many others. I feel affection for them. Most of them are doing the best they can. I am also doing the best I can.

Something is going to have to happen. Not necessarily something big. Just something.

When the universe is ephemeral, one can easily feel that human existence is meaningless. Why should I do anything at all? On the other hand it is tempting to try and make the best of it. I'm here, anyway. The imagination won't cope if I try to picture where I'd otherwise be.

The only question that really counts, must be thins one: are things getting better or are they getting worse?

I know a helluva lot. I'm not the only one who knows these things. Many people know more than I do. That's fortunately not my problem. My problem is what I am supposed to use it for. What do I do with it? It's confusing.

...the total number of galaxies in the universe seems to be in the region of ten billion, and that each of them has about a hundred billion stars the size of the sun. These numbers are so absurd that I strangely find myself in a good mood. It's all so immense. I think Paul feels a bit like this as well. There is so little I can do to make a difference. It is liberating.

The only thing I can be sure of at any given time is what I am thinking myself. I have no idea what the others are thinking. Do they think space is big and dangerous? I do. What do they believe in? I think nobody ought to be alone. That one should be with someone. With friends. With the person one loves. I think it is important to love. I think it's the most important thing.

What I could really use is an older man. A mentor. One who could tell me how things fit together. He would have asked me to do chores that I felt were meaningless. I would have been impatient and protested, but done them nonetheless. And eventually, after several months of hard labour, I would have realised that there was a deeper meaning behind it all, and that the master had a cunning plan all the time.

Perspektiva bi trebalo da bude nešto što može da se kupi i ubrizga intravenozno.

I sat there thinking this had to be the pits. I was afraid that I had become fed up with life, that I would never ever feel enthusiasm again.

Any ideas I might have had about eternal life are sort of getting stuck in the throat. But it doesn't seem to bother me. Not now. On the contrary, I feel more alive than in a long while. Suddenly it feels good to have a deadline to relate to. As a matter of fact, I've always worked well under pressure.

I don't think I am any different from other people. I have the same dreams. I want a family. I want a house. A car. Why shouldn't I want that? Everybody does. And when I have it, I want it all to work.

I feel I am on a high. For the first time in a very long while I have a feeling that anything can happen. This morning I woke up thinking everything could happen, that things would just come to me, and that they would be good.

It was so nice and uncomplicated. When I wasn’t sleeping I ran around and was excited. I never walked. I ran.

I’m saying it’s strange when you meet someone. That it’s a new planet.

La eternidad es algo muy distinto a lo sencillamente enorme o inconcebiblemente grande. Si el universo tiene un tiempo ilimitado a su disposición, no significa solo que todo puede suceder. Significa que todo va a suceder. Por muy inverosímil que sea o por mucho tiempo que lleve, antes o después ocurrirá todo. Eso significa que si yo viviera para siempre, lo haría todo y me pasaría todo.

Que yo no sea propietario de un perro significa que todos los demás también pueden ser algo distinto a lo que aparentan ser. Significa que es imposible saber nada.

La única pregunta realmente importante tiene que ser esta: ¿Las cosas van a mejor o a peor?

Det med, at universet ser ud til at have en afslutning, lægger naturligvis en dæmper på et eller andet. Alle tanker om evigt liv sætter sig fast i halsen. Men det er ikke noget, der plager mig. Ikke nu. Tværtimod. Jeg føler mig mere levende, end jeg har gjort længe. Pludselig føles det helt fint at have en frist at forholde sig til. Jeg har egentlig altid arbejdet bedst under pres.