“Maybe that was the problem," Jacob said softly. "Don't we all need to feel needed? That we'd be missed if we were gone?”

“Maybe we don't have the same definition of about what's beautiful. So define it. Define true beauty.”

“If Jacob was right and clothes were costumes and makeup a mask, then our attitudes and habits must be our shields.”

“You don't need a geochache for this one.""You don't, huh?""Nope.. here I am. Here I am.”

“Jacob: "Let her stare."Terra: "What?"Jacob: "Yeah most of the starers are just curious. Smile back. That's what I used to do.”

“So, really," continued Jacob as if this were perfectly normal to expound on art in these circumstances, "when you think about it, the artists who make people stop and think, who push the form, who make you uncomfortable, who are laughable, well, they're the ones who get remembered." Idly, Jacob dug a hole in the snow with his shovel and then another one next to it. "So why wouldn't you want to join the ranks of the ridiculed?”

“You know, sometimes the most direct route isn't the right one. - Jacob”