Just like that. From a hundred miles an hour to asleep in a nanosecond. I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not f*ck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together, in the most ...
What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding in an hour.
She said, "It's not life or death, the labyrinth." "Um, okay. So what is it?" "Suffering," she said. "Doing wrong and having wrong things happen to you. That's the problem. Bolivar was talking about the pain, not about the living or dying. How do you...
Be present in this class. And then, when it's over, be present out there.
There are always answers. We just have to be smart enough.
So I came here looking for a Great Perharps
I thought of the one thing about home that I missed, my dad's study with its built-in, floor-to-ceiling shelves sagging with thick biographies and the black leather chair that kept me just uncomfortable enough to keep from feeling sleepy as I read.
This is unbearable ... God. These books she'll never read. Her Life's Library.
How can you read and talk at the same time?” I asked. “Well, I usually can’t, but neither the book nor the conversation is particularly intellectually challenging.
That didn't happen, of course. Things never happened like I imagined them.
You know what's lame, Pudge? I really care about her. I mean, we were hopeless. Badly matched. But still. I mean, I said I loved her... I mean, it's stupid to miss someone you didn't even get along with. but I don't know, it was nice, you know, havin...
I wouldn't have cared if my girlfriend was a Jaguar-driving Cyclops with a beard - I'd have been grateful just to have someone to make out with.
Why don’t we break up? I guess I stay with her because she stays with me. And that’s not an easy thing to do.
People, I thought, wanted security. They couldn't bear the idea of death being a big black nothing, couldn't bear the thought of their loved ones not existing, and couldn't even imagine themselves not existing. I finally decided that people believed ...
I was not religious, but I liked rituals. I liked the idea of connecting an action with remembering.
What you must understand about me is that I’m a deeply unhappy person.
The silence broke:"Sometimes I liked it", I said "Sometimes I liked it that she was dead." "You mean it felt good?" "No. I don't know. It felt ... pure.
All right. The snow may be falling in the winter of my discontent, but at least I've got sarcastic company.
