Neanderthal Opens the Door to the Universe

It was in that moment that I realized something about human beings: We always care. Even when we don't care, or don't want to care, or we've been broken beyond the capability of caring... We always do. It's our ultimate infallibility.

Sometimes,' said Tegan, pausing almost thoughtfully, 'we get so caught up in the things we gotta do ... that we forget about the people.

[H]e stooped down and wrote an answer to my question, Is love even real? He wrote: Just because it defies logic and comprehension, that doesn't mean it's not real.

But they weren't [just numbers]. To someone, somewhere, those lost people were Everything.

-I suppose it starts with having a dream. And then chasing it. You chase after it like your life depends on it. In a sense, I guess it does." -What sort of dream? -Any sort. It doesn’t matter what it is. The only thing that matters is that you want it from the deepest part of who you are, and you chase after it with everything in you.

Buildings and houses and streets and trees of every shape and size - old and new - came together. Misfit puzzled pieces clicking into place. All part of the Masterpiece.

...What if we had that kind of passion with the List? This passion that was at the very root of our existence. and the injustice of it made our blood boil, and if we didn't complete the fuck out of this List, we would at least die trying.

Have you ever done something really bad?' said Aaron. ... 'Um...' I said...'You do know who you're talking to, right? I don't think I've ever done a thing that wasn't really bad.' 'No, I mean really bad. Something you can't forgive yourself for. You want to forgive yourself for it, and you need to forgive yourself for it...but you just can't.

My fight-or-flight response was currently telling me to get the hell outta there. Except that my fight-or-flight response had a third, less-evolved option called deer-in-the-headlights.

Some days, I don't want to believe in a God. Other days, I just... I need to believe. Horrible things happen, all over the world, every day. We ask ourselves: Why would God let this happen? And we want an answer to that question so bad, but there is no answer. Instead, there's just this... hope. This hope that, somehow, things can be right in the end. And I pray everyday that it's true.

It’s funny how we try so hard to hide from the truth. We tell ourselves that it didn’t happen. We say it enough times that we start to believe it. We live in a lie that exists only for ourselves. But the Truth is still there—dangling above us, hanging on a very weary thread. Out of sight. Out of mind. Until the thread of our self-denial breaks, and the Truth comes crashing back down

Are you on your period?" "Do you wanna get stabbed to death with a tampon, fucker?!

We are all in an ocean," he said. "Every one of us. Some of us are barely swimming, some of us are drowning, and there are some of us still who are being tossed in waves and dashed upon the rocks. And often we feel that we won't survive. Maybe that ocean is school, and we're struggling to get decent grades, or to fit in, or maybe we're just trying to survive the hurtful words and actions of people who don't understand their cruelty. But one thing is certain—something that Hemingway is trying to teach us through Santiago—we, as human beings, are made to transcend. I believe that there is something deep down inside of us that resonates with the universe. A purpose. And once we learn what the purpose is"—Spinelli looked directly at me—"even the whole ocean cannot stop us.