I love making YouTube videos. I love Tumblr, I love Twitter. I love talking with people I find interesting about stuff I find interesting, and the Internet is a great way to do that.
I'm so proud of you that it makes me proud of me. I hope you know that.
All along â€” not only since she left, but for a decade before â€” I had been imagining her without listening, without knowing that she made as a poor a window as I did. And so I could not imagine her as a person who could feel fear, who could feel isolated in a roomful of people, who could be shy a
When people have to choose between civilization and warm genitals, they choose warm genitals
Because you are beautiful. I enjoy looking at beautiful people, and I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simpler pleasures of existence
Without Pain, How Could We Know Joy?
I stood under the awning for a moment, but finally I decided that being in a bad mood with your friends beats being in a bad mood without them.
Iâ€™ve stopped thinking about it. I donâ€™t have time to have a girlfriend. I have like a full-time job Learning How to Be Blind.
This is the Homosexuality Is An Abomination Club, right?
Radar revs the engine as to say hustle, and we are running through the parking lot, Ben's robe flowing in the wind so that he looks vaguely like a dark wizard, except that his pale skinny legs are visible, and his arms hug plastic bags. I can see the back of Lacey's legs beneath her dress, her calve
If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions. But we can't know better until knowing better is useless.
Grief does not change you, Hazel. It reveals you.
A paper town for a paper girl.
As the tide washed in, the Dutch Tulip Man faced the Ocean: "Conjoiner rejoinder poisoner concealer revelator. Look at it, rising up and rising down, taking everything with it." "Whatâ€™s that?" Anna asked. "Water," the Dutchman said. "Well, and time.
In the ensuing silence, I have time to contemplate the word cuteâ€” how dismissive it is, how itâ€™s the equivalent of calling someone little, how it makes a person into a baby, how the word is a neon sign burning through the dark reading, â€œFeel Bad About Yourself.
I don't really want to be the costar of anyone's life.
Life works best when we think of people as people.
You can't just make me different, and the leave. Because I was fine before.
We fell. We got up. We ran.
I ran like a cheetah - well, like a cheetah that smoked too much.
Does he have ugly hands? Sometimes beautiful people have ugly hands." "No he has kind of amazing hands.
I hated sports. I hated sports, and I hated people who played them, and I hated people who watched them, and I hated people who didn't hate people who watched or played them.
Sheâ€™s the kind of person who either dies tragically at twenty-seven, like Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin, or else grows up to win, like, the first-ever Nobel Prize for Awesome.
What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.
"Nothing ever happens like you imagine it will," she says. The sky is like a monochromatic contemporary painting, drawing me in with its illusion of depth, pulling me up. "Yeah, that's true," I say. But then after I think about it for a second, I add, "But then again, if you don't imagine, nothing e
I still think that maybe the "afterlife" is just something we made up to ease the pain of loss, to make our time in the labyrinth bearable. Maybe we are just matter, and matter gets recycled
â€ŽThese little contradictions are in all of us. They're in me at least. And so I forgot that I had been awake for 30 hours and kept walking, grateful to be a little boat full of water, still floating.
She taught me everything I knew about crawfish and kissing and pink wine and poetry. She made me different.
Waffles are just awesome bread.
No," I said. And maybe it was only because Alaska couldn't hit the brakes and I couldn't hit the accelerator.