只是記錄一下從我喜歡的一本書裡的句子，可以無視

Every second the Universe divides into possibilities and most of those possibilities never happen. It is not a uni-verse — there is more than one reading. The story won’t stop, can’t stop, it goes on telling itself, waiting for an intervention that changes what will happen next.
Love is an intervention.

Pulsar: a dying star spinning under its own exploding anarchic energy, like a lighthouse on speed. A star the size of a city, a city the size of a star, whirling round and round, its death-song caught by a radio receiver, light years later, like a recorded message nobody heard, back-played now into infinity across time. Love and loss.

When I touch her, my fingers don’t question what she is. My body knows who she is. The strange thing about strangers is that they are unknown and known. There is a pattern to her, a shape I understand, a private geometry that numbers mine.

She is a maze where I got lost years ago, and now find the way out. She is the missing map. She is the place that I am. She is a stranger. She is the strange that I am beginning to love.

The key to happiness, she said, is tolerance of those who do not do as you do.' What if those who do not do as you do are gunning you down?' I said.... Alaska frowned.Guns are intolerant. Guns are a failure of communication.

Loneliness isn’t about being by yourself. That’s fine, right and good, desirable in many ways. Loneliness is about finding a landing-place, or not, and knowing that, whatever you do, you can go back there. The opposite of loneliness isn’t company, it’s return. A place to return.

Human beings often display emotions they do not feel. And they often feel emotions they do not display.

I want to touch you. And if you did touch me, what then? I would find a language of beginning. And you once voyaged would be my free and wild place that I would never try to tame. And the place that you are would never be sold or exchanged. I want to begin this with you. Can you love only what you know? Or is love what you don’t know?