Crackpot Palace

“You two don’t know yet,” he said. “When you get old, you think more about the past than about what you did five minutes ago. Time changes.”

Time became a sermon, preaching itself.

Dreams are dreams and the future is like a hall of mirrors reflecting the past and offering up wavering illusions until everything shatters and you were cut to ribbons by shards of reality.

“My specialty is napping.”

“A noble pursuit,” he said.

You are no more nor less than any man—a hungry heart and a wavering will.

“Do you remember what you wished for?” asked Stan.

“Only the one of them. I must have been ten or eleven.”

“Did it come true?” asked Groot.

“Hell no, I wished I’d never get old,” said Venner.

They’ve told so many lies in their lives that they’ve run out and can now tell only the truth.