Years are nothing to me—they should be nothing to you. Who asked you to count them or to consider them? In the world of wild nature, time is measured by seasons only—the bird does not know how old it is—the rose tree does not count its birthdays!

The best way to fill time is to waste it.

This is Year Zero.

Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.

The appointed thing comes at the appointed time in the appointed way.