• I was only twelve, but through the slow, inevitable burn of a thousand sunrises and sunsets, a thousand maps traced and retraced, I had already absorbed the valuable precept that everything crumbled into itself eventually, and to cultivate a crankiness about this was just a waste of time.

    Reif Larsen (2010). “The Selected Works of T. S. Spivet: A Novel”, p.17, Penguin