We expect you to debate everything. Question it all. Turn it upside down. They are your tools for investigating the universe. Don’t hide em away. Use… - Malcolm Azania

The self-delusion that mysterious forces and persons unknown are conspiring against us is, surprisingly, a comforting belief, because it means we’re significant enough in this anarchic world to warrant someone’s enmity. That delusion saves us from the far more difficult to accept reality: that we’re not that important to anyone. That the universe just isn’t “into” us.
Paranoia is the emotive-psychestructure’s response to feeling ignored, unloved, or forgotten in an existence filled with random acts of destructive indifference emphasizing the inherent futility of life and struggle. If you’re ever to achieve serenity, ultimately you must accept that in such a vast cosmos, you simply don’t matter very much.

It’s a special kind of hugging, the kind where deep down you’re facing the unspoken fact that this’s the last time you’re gonna hold somebody, and so you make your cells hold on, make em drink in somebody’s scent and texture, so you can keep em with you after the world has taken em away.

But khetiuta as insane as they were? They slithered with snakes just as full of isfet as they were. Khetiuta looking to make names for themselves, who didn’t know shit about cause and effect, or that every time they aimed the barrel, it stared back at them. And men too stupid to know that were dangerous beyond measure.