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Life seemed to flow along more swiftly than thoughts. And before he even made a decision he was an old man.

I wish we could spend every day together. I don't want to keep waking up without him. This must be what it feels like to fall in love without saying the word. The way he stares at me says he's thinking the same. I don't know why we were connected this way, but I like to believe there's a reason for it. Maybe we're part of some cosmic story, stretching throughout the universe. I just hope it has a good ending.

It was the face of a woman who had grown old but was still beautiful. Indeed, the nurse’s coif rejuvenated her, as it does all women, because it is in their nature to be rejuvenated by kindness and compassion and also by the external insignia of compassion.

I’ve grown old; he has merely lived for many years.

But old age was approaching with cruel, hushed steps and sometimes in crafty disguises.

He could never have put it into words, but we may say that he was unspeakably afflicted by the thought of having been a tool in the hands of misfortune.

And for the first time in his very long life he realized how hard it is to be helpless yet maintain one’s dignity. This insight struck him like a lightning bolt, shattering the pride that he had so carefully nurtured and fostered for such a long time, that he had inherited and was determined to pass down.

Open-source architecture is presented as an innovation, but it is really just the vernacular with an Internet connection. Local design fueled by a global community.

Too often, the notion of progress is used as a code word for perfection, the chain of being in a different guise. The term should be employed with caution. Some see an arrow of time in biology, as in physics, but in the opposite direction — a relentless tendency to improve, just as the universe has a built-in trend toward chaos and disorder. That is too optimistic. Some lineages get more complicated, some simpler, and much of life has to struggle to stay in the same place. If everyone is evolving, nobody can afford to stop, and there may be constant change with no overall advance at all.

If they could shout loud enough they might bring the world back to it's senses, they might laugh loud enough to raise the dead.

There was only violent death or life to chose between; finer distinctions such as love, preference or kindness were redundant.

I feel guilty that I have survived when all the others are gone.