“Wendla: How did you come here?Melchior: I followed my thoughts.”
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“Did you follow me here?" I asked.Lake shrugged. "The word follow seems to suggest you got here first.”
“I moved my arms through the water, feeling them float on the surface, watching the waves and wake that followed my gesture. Here was magic, I thought. Here was something holy.”
“How did you find me?” I said, keeping my head ducked. “It was easy,” he said, taking a seat beside me. “All I did was follow the cursing.”
“Why did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse?”
“Where am I? Who am I? How did I come to be here? What is this thing called the world? How did I come into the world? Why was I not consulted? And If I am compelled to take part in it, where is the director? I want to see him.”