One of the stupidest human assumptions is the idea of a fixed reality; empiricism squeezing tight like hands in black gloves. But the substrate on which all things are built is just a quantum mishmash, a spacetime soup of speed without position and location without velocity, an uncollapsible froth where codification means nothing.

It's all just strings in a pile, ill-defined boundaries buzzing against and through each other. Tiny grains swimming through eddies of celluloid.

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...paradise is expensive, the gate is narrow. Whoever visits discovers that life is beautiful, that the sun can in fact be divided into individual rays, it's no longer that boring, round ball you can't even look at. The next day, you go back to work on a train full of people with empty looks, emptier than the looks of the people here. Everybody thinking about getting home, making dinner, turning on the television, escaping reality - man, reality is this white powder, not the television!

- Coelho

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Better dying through chemistry.