My days had a pleasant identicalness about them. I had always liked that: I liked routine. I liked being bored. I didnâ€™t want to but I did.
In the end, I had to call myself a faggot, which really annoyed me, because 1. I don't think that word should ever be used by anyone, let alone me, and 2. As it happens, I am not gay, and furthermore, 3. Chuck Parson made it out like calling yourself a faggot was the ultimate humiliation, even thoug
I'm sorry. I know you loved her. It was hard not to.
We live in a universe devoted to the creation, and eradication, of awareness. Augustus Waters did not die after a lengthy battle with cancer. He died after a lengthy battle with human consciousness, a victim - as you will be - of the universe's need to make and unmake all that is possible.
Iâ€™m not up for laughing, but their laughter makes the room feel safer, so we begin to explore.
When we think of death, we often imagine it as happening in degrees: We think of a sick person becoming less and less alive until finally they are gone.
It hurts because it mattered.
Truth defies simplicity.
Like many people, I feel like celebrating. Remember this feeling. It is human, and can help us understand when others express bloodlust.
Don't make fun of her," the Duke said. "She needs gentle encouragement. Carla, baby, we love you. You are such a good car. And we believe in you one hundred percent." ... "Don't listen to him, Carla. You're gonna do this." ... "I love you, Carla. You know that, don't you? I wake up every morning and
Issac:"I dislike living in a world without Augustus Waters." Computer: "I don't understand-" Issac: "Me neither. Pause
The way I figure it, everyone gets a miracle.
Something about telling that story made my gut grow back together." What?" Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud." That's who you really like. The people you can think out loud in front of." The people who've been in your secret hiding places." The people you bite your thumb in front of." Hi." Hi." ..
Nothing has ever looked like that ever in all of human history.
Tonight, darling, we are going to right a lot of wrongs. And we are going to wrong some rights. The first shall be last; the last shall be first; the meek shall do some earth-inheriting. But before we can radically reshape the world, we need to shop.
I didn't even know what the feeling was, really, just that there was a lot of it.
You can say a lot of bad things about Alabama, but you can't say that Alabamans as a people are duly afraid of deep fryers.
I found myself thinking about President William McKinley, the third American president to be assassinated. He lived for several days after he was shot, and towards the end, his wife started crying and screaming, "I want to go too! I want to go too!" And with his last measure of strength, McKinley tu
It's a metaphor, see: You put the killing thing right between your teeth, but you don't give it the power to do its killing.
I don't have a favourite book, I have hundreds.
But that wasn't quite right. I called it a nine because I was saving my ten. And here it was, the great and terrible ten, slamming me again and again as I lay still and alone in my bed staring at the ceiling, the waves tossing me against the rocks then pulling me back out to sea so they could launch
But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defensless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get." I know what
The preciousness of the moment, which should make it easier to talk, makes it harder.
I've read a lot of bad books. I used to review books for a living, and when you're a reviewer you read tons of terrible books.
In the end, what you do isn't going to be nearly as interesting or important as who you do it with.
It seemed like forever ago, like we've had this brief but still infinite forever. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.
I can't be you. You can't be me. You can imagine another wellâ€”but never quite perfectly, you know?
It's almost as if the way you imagine my dead self says more about you than it says about either the person I was or the whatever I am now.
Your friendship with her-it sleeps with the fishes.
The Degree to which I am blessed staggers me... the degree to which I take that for granted shames me. -Streetwalking with Jesus