“That’s your problem,” Crispin said, stepping toward the center of the hall. “You think life is a line. A to B. But look at the space between the doors. Look at the floor. It’s a plane. You can walk diagonally. You can walk in a spiral. You can stand still and dance.” He turned his back on both doors and walked toward the window—a window that was, the Society had ensured, bricked over. He placed his palm on the cold stone.
Crispin looked at the circular door, which had not been opened in living memory. Then he looked at the straight, righteous rectangle. And for the first time in his life, he did something irrational. He laughed. the rectodus society
Crispin turned from the bricked window. “Take the crooked path, Aldous. It’s longer. It’s harder. But at the end of it, there’s a view.” But look at the space between the doors
“That’s your problem,” Crispin said, stepping toward the center of the hall. “You think life is a line. A to B. But look at the space between the doors. Look at the floor. It’s a plane. You can walk diagonally. You can walk in a spiral. You can stand still and dance.” He turned his back on both doors and walked toward the window—a window that was, the Society had ensured, bricked over. He placed his palm on the cold stone.
Crispin looked at the circular door, which had not been opened in living memory. Then he looked at the straight, righteous rectangle. And for the first time in his life, he did something irrational. He laughed.
Crispin turned from the bricked window. “Take the crooked path, Aldous. It’s longer. It’s harder. But at the end of it, there’s a view.”