“Boris has just given me a summary of his views. He is a weather prophet. The weather will continue bad, he says. There will be more calamities, more death, more despair. Not the slightest indication of a change anywhere. The cancer of time is eating us away. Our heroes have killed themselves, or are killing themselves. The hero, then, is not Time, but Timelessness. We must get in step, a lock step, toward the prison of death. There is no escape. The weather will not change.”

“There will be more calamities, more death, more despair. Not the slightest indication of a change anywhere. The cancer of our time is eating us away. Our heroes have killed themselves, or are killing themselves. ”

“Life hurts.  As long as it doesn’t kill us, we weather it.”

“We wait... and wait... and so we spend our lives waiting. Waiting for the right moment, the right person, more money, more Love, more time, more approval... we even wait for the weather to change. We depend on everything but ourselves to take the leap. Stop waiting. Use your next breath to seize the day. It is Yours to Take.”

“He reached for my hand, looking sad. “Don’t get hurt, Buttercup.” I shrugged. “Life hurts. As long as it doesn’t kill us, we weather it.”

“How many more times do we have to come to terms with death before we find safety?" he asked. He waited a few minutes, but the three of us didn't say anything. He continued: "Every time people come at us with the intention of killing us, I close my eyes and wait for death. Even though I am still alive, I feel like each time I accept death, part of me dies. Very soon I will completely die and all that will be left is my empty body walking with you. It will be quieter than I am.”