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Between My Lines is a look into me, my philosophies, and my motivations. I wrote the book after I returned to Iceland in 2023, inspired by all the changes taking place in my life. The topics addressed include everything from language to literature, religion to philosophy, expression to poetry, and all my thoughts and feelings in between. Above all else, it’s about how I went from an unhappy life to living a life.

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#49

There is a secret language spoken by all people on this planet. It is that of self-expression. What clothes are you wearing? What music do you listen to? How do you style your hair? What words do you choose to say? How does your body move when we interact? What is the motion of your eyes? You are betrayed by your humanity. Anyone who speaks the language of self-expression can see into your soul.

#99

I walked the streets of Reykjavík, through both residential and commercial areas. No place has such a feeling as this. It is a small town made big. The beauty of this country isn’t its landscapes. Nor the city itself. It’s the way life is lived. There is traffic, but no horns. The people take care of their trash. I thought I was a quiet person until I moved here, and I hardly even know any Icelanders.

Such is what it means to find a place to live. It’s not about the country or the city, it’s always the people. You’ll never find your home until you search for it. So go out, search. If it doesn’t work, go somewhere else. Change your career. Change everything. What’s the point of living in this world if you aren’t on a search for that which you seek?

One year ago, I was a PhD student in Salt Lake City. Since then, I have moved thousands of miles, all over the US and Iceland. I have changed careers multiple times. I have made and lost friends. I have made and left homes. I searched. And I believe I have found. What if I’m wrong? Then I will keep searching.

#117

What people do is always for a reason. Bad things, good things, it’s always for a reason. We cannot judge anyone for anything they do. Not even the people who hurt us. There is a reason. We may never know or understand it. But there is always a reason. If we knew it, we would feel empathy rather than anger.

#272

For every moment I have suffered, the joy I might find in the future grows ever greater.

#382

I hear the wails from the heavens: the lamentations of humanity. Each face is etched with poetry. Each voice layered with song. From the skies come harmonious symphonies, playing with the reading of the soul. No drop of rain is not a tear. No ray of light is not a reaching hand. “Behold,” they cry out between cracks of thunder as leaves are blown throughout the air, “you who weep at night, do you look not to the sky?” And so, lightning strikes, catching fire to the world. The echoing wailing ceaselessly sounding, life forms withering like pages crumbling. “Dare you not,” they proclaim through the shuddering of the earth, “to look your fellow man in the eyes and allow but a single tear to speak what all your words could not?” And they wept. And man did not.