Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.

I would not be the person I am without the authors who made me what I am - the special ones, the wise ones, sometimes just the ones who got there first.

Everybody has a secret world inside of them. All of the people of the world, I mean everybody. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside, inside them they’ve all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands maybe.

Nothing’s changed. You’ll go home. You’ll be bored. You’ll be ignored. No one will listen to you, really listen to you. You’re too clever and too quiet for them to understand. They don’t even get your name right.