How singular is the thing called pleasure, and how curiously related to pain, which might be thought to be the opposite of it; for they never come to a man together, and yet he who pursues either of them is generally compelled to take the other.

I would have you know, that if you kill such an one as I am, you will injure yourselves more than you will injure me.

[...] These new accusers must also have their affidavit read. What do they say? Something of this sort: that Socrates is a doer of evil, and corruptor of the youth, and he does not believe in the gods of the state, and has other new divinities of his own.

Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends.

De begynte virkelig å bli ordentlig glade i den underlige kjæledeggen sin og håpet at de fikk lov av Aslan til å beholde den. De kløktigste dyrene var nå sikre på at i hvert fall noen av lydene som kom fra munnen hans betydde noe. De kalte ham for Konjakk, for det var den lyden han oftest laget.

God, he'd said. The old Rusty word for their invisible superheroes in the sky.

Books are a uniquely portable magic.

The road to hell is paved with adverbs.

I stored the fact that there were real glasses in the corner of a mind the way a squirrel stores a nut.

The floor seemed wonderfully solid. It was comfortable to know I had fallen and could fall no farther.

The room appeared even smaller once Dr. Lyanne closed the door. After being shut up in that closet with Jackson, it was nothing, of course, but both we and Dr. Lyanne seemed to take up so much space, though she was such a thin woman and we'd never been tall.

Jeg kommer igjen. Jeg drar ikke fra deg. Jeg elsker deg over alt på jorda.

Books are mirrors: you only see in them what you already have inside you.

I utlandet er de redd for å bli skallet. De har så mye penger i utlandet at de har råd til å være redd for alle mulige tåpelige ting.

Dark matter comprises at least 95 percent of this universe's mass. In other words, nearly all of the matter in the universe is invisible. We can not see it.

Sara's notes from dose #4:
I went directly into deep space. They ["beings", "entities" often experienced on DMT] knew I was coming back and they were ready for me. They told me there were many things they could share with us when we learn how to make more extended contact. Again, they wanted something from me, not just physical information. They were interested in emotions and feelings. I told them, "We have something we can give you: spirituality." I guess what I really meant was Love. I tried to figure out how to do this. I felt a tremendous energy, brilliant pink light with white edges, buildings on my left side. I knew it was spiritual energy and Love. They were on my right, so I reached out my hands across the universe and prepared to be a bridge. I let this energy pass through me to them. I said something like, "See, there I did it for you. You have it." They were grateful. I was coming down off the DMT, losing altitude. I would have to go back.

There was a horrible sound outside the door, someone drilling in screws. I thought about how incredible it was that our volunteers could disregard all the chaos of a hospital ward and still have such profound experiences.
Cassandra lifted the eyeshades but kept her eyes closed. Then she opened her eyes half-mast, gazing ahead. She looked up at the ceiling and began crying again.
"What are you feeling?"
Everything will be okay. I don't have to worry about all my doubts. Things like "Where will I go? What will I do?" It's reassuring.
"An optimistic feeling?"
Yes, it's very refreshing. It feels like there are thousands and thousands of separate parts of me and this drug brings them all together. It feels very complete.

I have five people living inside my head. In the order they appeared, there is the Boy in the red Converse sneakers––I can't see his face, only his shoes. Next, the ancient man who spends all his time in meditation. I call him the Silent One because he's spoken to me only once since I met him, which makes him the perfect manager of my spiritual life. Third, Sarge, who keeps me safe. Fourth, Ruffles, a whale-sized woman who sits on a purple pillow eating Ruffles potato chips all day. And, saving the best for last, fifth, Betty Jane, a mordern-day Scarlett O'Hara who makes my life hell on a good day.

With endless time, nothing is special.

... for barn er de kar som voksne heller sin gift i,