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He was the second snowman to be melting away before her eyes, only this one was different. It was a paradox.
The colder he became, the more he melted.

Everytime you have a thought. put the thought in a bubble, watch the bubble float up to the surface of the pond and disappear. Then bring your mind back to quiet. If you have another thought, put it in another bubble and let that bubble float up and disappear. Keep repeating this process.

everything will be clear to you in time. But you must have a chance to digest the knowledge that we have given to you already.

Parents start out with grand expectations for their kids. But when things don’t go as expected, they just want their kids to be ordinary, thinking it’s simple. But son, being ordinary is the hardest thing to achieve.

That was all thanks to one of mom’s codes of conduct- too much honesty hurts others- which I had memorised over and over so that it was stuck in my brain.

If by ‘free will’ you mean the freedom to do what you desire- then yes, humans have free will.
But if by ‘free will’ you mean the freedom to choose what to desire - then no, humans have no free will.

People afraid of losing their truth tend to be more violent than people who are used to looking at the world from several viewpoints. Questions you cannot answer are usually far better for you than answers you cannot question.

Art is a fragile magic, just like love, and that’s humanity’s only defence against death. That we create and paint and dance and fall in love, that’s our rebellion against eternity. Everything beautiful is a shield. Vincent Van Gogh wrote: ‘I always think that the best way to know God is to love many things.’

Children aren’t responsible for their parents’ happiness, but they still try.

You can be whatever you want to in life, as long as you don’t become a critic! Not of other people, and not of yourself. It’s easy to be a critic, any coward can do that. But art doesn’t need critics, art has enough enemies already. Art needs friends.

Art is coincidence, love is chaos.

Art is what we leave of ourselves in other people.

The artist’s bookcases were full of poets, like the bookcases of anyone trying to find out how everyone else copes.

Death is public but dying is private, the very last private thing we have.

Joar just wanted him to finish it, and the problem was that Joar thought you needed to start if you were ever going to finish, but that wasn’t how it worked. Art isn’t chronological. Everything the artist drew came from a place in his head that he could only get to if he wasn’t looking for it. If he was told to draw, it was like waking from a dream and trying to dream it again.

Nothing weighs more than someone else’s belief in you.

He’s dreamed of being able to day: “being human is to grieve, constantly.” Because what he really wants to know is: “How the hell do all the rest of you cope?”

Life is long, Louisa. Everyone will tell you that it’s short, they’re lying. It’s a long, long life.

“Because I know that no matter what, I’m wonderful.” There was nothing arrogant about the statement, nothing flippant or brash. It was merely an acknowledgment, a simple truth shared.

So the paradox is that the ecosystem as a whole needs its participants to act with restraint in order to avoid collapse, but the participants themselves have no inbuilt mechanism to encourage such behaviour.
Other than fear.

Every living thing causes damage to others, Sibling Dex. You’d all starve otherwise.

I am made of metal and numbers; you are made of water and genes. But we are each something more than that. And we can’t define what that something more is simply by our raw components.

Some people spend their life playing bombs and therefore everyone else has to spend their life defusing them.

Men love for a moment because they are clever
Women are fools because they love forever

You are no longer quite certain which side of the fence is the dream!

Better to have a single perfect diamond than a sack of flared stones

People see what they wish to see. And in most cases, what they are told that they see.

Aose’s father used to say the sun should be treated as a treasured guest and welcome into a house.