No One Worth Knowing Can Be Quite

I Love Sports, As All Bostonians Seem To. I Love Books And Movies, As All Writers Seem To.

The Rest-the Vast Majority, Tens Of Thousands Of Days-are Unremarkable, Repetitive, Even Monotonous. We Glide Through Them Then Instantly Forget Them. We Tend Not To Think About This Arithmetic When We Look Back On Our Lives. We Remember The Handful Of Big Days And Throw Away The Rest. We Organize Our Long, Shapeless Lives Into Tidy Little Stories...but Our Lives Are Mostly Made Up Of Junk, Of Ordinary, Forgettable Days, And 'the End' Is Never The End.

There Is No Absolute Beginning To Any Story, After All. There Is Only The Moment You Begin Watching.

Genes Are Not Simple Triggers. No One Is Hardwired To Commit Murder Or Any Other Crime. Our Actions Are Always The Result Of Stupendously Complex Gene-environment Interactions, And Environment Is Likely To Remain The More Important Influence By Far.

But Sometimes You Can't Figure Everything Out Because You Can't Ever Really Understand Other People. You Can't Understand Why They Do What They Do. You Just Have To Accept A Little Mystery, Ben. People Are Mysterious, The World Is Mysterious. You Can't Know Everything. You're Not Supposed To. This Isn't A History Book. It's Just The World. It's A Messy Place.