wisest is she who knows she does not know

One of the worst feelings in the world: when you are just desperate, like claw-your-own-skin-off desperate, to create, but the only thing that even vaguely appeals to you to work on is a nebulous half-feeling that might be dreamily related to some half-formed notion of a concept. I must! Make! No thing! Only make!

Everything is boring. All activity is meaningless. I understand why Sherlock Holmes did cocaine.

heres the thing. in no universe whatsoever does ryland grace agree to go on the hail mary. and in no universe would stratt let him refuse. it is fundamental to both characters that grace goes to space; grace is not grace and stratt is not stratt if it doesn't happen.