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“Things that exist exist, and everything is on their side.”

My God, he thought, did people belong in this part of the world?
The Earth is an animal that shakes off its fleas when they dig too deep, bite too hard.
It shifts and our cities fall; it sighs and the coasts are overtaken. We really shouldn't be here at all.

Grandeur, grandeur - that was the word he liked. Grandeur and awe and holiness, communion, communion with the outside world. 'Alan, all the answers are in the air, the trees, the water!' he'd written in the margins of this or that Brook Farm manifesto. And then he'd walked into a freezing lake and let it kill him. Was that his idea of communion, his idea of oneness?

The only logical option would be to move to a farm. A thousand-mile prairie. All this energy and these shrieking voices kept inside these small walls? It wasn't sensible.

Believe strongly that the house is too small for all of you, that you should be living largely outdoors, in a yurt with a hundred acres around-wouldn't it be better if the kids were outside, where nothing could be broken, where they could be kept busy hunting vermin and gathering firewood?

She was done, gone. She had been comfortable, and comfort is the death of the soul, which is by nature searching, insistent, unsatisfied.
This dissatisfaction drives the soul to leave, to get lost, to be lost, to struggle and adapt.
And adaptation is growth, and growth is life.

A human's choice is either to see new things, mountains, waterfalls, deadly storms and seas and volcanoes, or to see the same man-made things endlessly reconfigured.
Metal in this shape, then that shape, concrete this way and that. People, too! The same emotions recycled, reconfigured, fuck it, she was free.

“Alaska was full of unexpected people…
- Everyone up here had two stories: the life before and the life now. If you wanted to pray to a weirdo god or live in a school bus or marry a goose, no one in Alaska was going to say crap to you. No one cared if you had an old car on your deck, let alone a rusted fridge. Any life that could be imagined could be lived up here.”