How to Order the Universe

This wasn’t theft; it was tiny spoils from the war that all human beings must unleash against the system that oppresses them. So thought the intellectuals who, from a coffeehouse, had observed the world’s workers. We, in another coffeehouse, hadn’t thought it, but we knew it in the bottom of our just-as-tiny hearts. This wasn’t theft. And even if i

E was one of those people whose very presence gives others permission to act naturally. The sort of person who doesn’t expect you to arrive on time or, when you do arrive at last, to say something important. The sort of person who distrusts order and who, consequently, brings a little bit of chaos with him wherever he goes.

Did that make my mother irresponsible? I don’t think so; I think that, instead, life had been a bit irresponsible with her.

Lucky beetles” are not a species, but an insect that alights in the exact spot where life took a different course. That spacetime in which one chooses to walk down one side of the road or the other, to leave the house or not, to say or to refrain from saying something. It’s a fraction of a second so small that only an insect can pass through it. An