Quotation

I am a liar. That is the truth. I've seen every shooting star since the first one. Every flash of lightning. I've heard the last gasp of each thing that ever lived. Nothing's interesting anymore. Nothing surprises you? Not a thing? The repetitiveness. The obstinate, dull repetitiveness of your father's plan is bewildering to me. The same lives lived over and over and over and over again. Is there a plan? It all has to turn into something, it has to pour out into something, but into what? And that's my weakness, curiosity. But I'll stay as long as it takes, forever, to witness the end. The final sunset. If there is one. Maybe on that day, late in the afternoon, seconds away, he'll want to start it all over again, from the beginning. He's done it before. Recreated the whole thing, retold the whole thing. On a whim. With little differences that must mean the world to him, a branch that crooks in a different direction, one egg more or less in the nest of a flea. ...