Read this book and you will be born.

Race was naive enough to think that dyeing her hair was enough to alter the pigment of her name, the nature of her shadow.”

 

“…Race realised her soul was not the sum of her choices, nor her genes a composite of caresses and strokes leading up to her conception. She envied her friends, the purity of their obliviousness, how they wore their hair casually long and streaked with gold, gleaming against their skin, beneath which the blood coursed, without question, like a final answer. She wondered if she peeled back their flesh, unhinged the bone, eased apart the knotted sinews, whether she would also find nothingness there: a space worn away in the shape of their own silences; what colour it must be.”

————–

“I can see why Passion and Purpose are so attracted to each other… She calms and steadies him, and he makes her feel alive.”

————–

“An incorrrigible traveller, Learning enjoys solitude….”

————–

“The books Freedom writes are stories of her many lives… They are all for her son, whose name is Tomorrow.”

————–

Despair keeps no clocks. If you ask him the time, he will always say it is too late to complete your journey.”

————–

“I once asked Courage what he was afraid of… And then as I turned to go, he whispered to me what he truly feared above all else: that things would remain only as they are.”

————–

“Despite Complexity‘s many demands, Vision embraces her fully. For as long as she exists, the world will never want for mystery.”

————–

“It’s unclear why I ever spent so much time with her. Perhaps I was fascinated by her loneliness, or was in love with her presence. I remember her as always being hungry, constantly gnawing at anything she could lay her hands on. She has grown so large and awkward, that she is afraid to go out and meet people. She might spend hours dressing up, but no matter what she wears, she feels naked in front of others. She has forgotten how to laugh.”

 

“She feels heavy and lethargic, and keeps the curtains drawn so people outside cannot see how gross she has become. Still, even though Anxiety claims to prefer the dark, I know she has a secret pair of wings which she’s forgotten how to use. Deep in her heart, what she truly wants is to fly again – if only she could be sure of never falling.”

Photo by VirginiaDialoguesFrom Alvin Pang’s “What Gives Us Our Names

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