“We were all so wor­ried about our worst fears, squeez­ing frogs, eat­ing worms, poi­sons, as­bestos, we nev­er con­sid­ered how bor­ing life would be even if we suc­ceed­ed and got a good job.”

“With all the lit­tle facts we learned, we nev­er had the time to think. None of us ev­er con­sid­ered what life would be like clean­ing up af­ter a stranger ev­ery day. Wash­ing dish­es all day. Feed­ing a stranger’s chil­dren. Mow­ing a lawn. All day. Paint­ing hous­es. Year af­ter year.”

“So do we discover, in the world, that our worst fears are unfulfilled; yet we must fear, in order that we may feel delight.”

“There were jobs so bor­ing, you’d find ways to crip­ple your­self so you couldn’t work.”

“And even if she were, even if we had our answer, whatever it was, what would we do with it? How would we fit it into the shaped poem we try to assemble of our lives? Would we see an hourglass or wings?”

“How little we really know about the life all around us. Would we be so cavalier and ruthless with it if we understood it better?”