That's the mystery, isn't it? Is the labyrinth living or dying? Which is he trying to escape--the world or the end of it?
Catalog
Alaska Young
We can’t love our neighbors till we know how crooked their hearts are.
Jesus, I’m not going to be one of those people who sits around talking about what they’re gonna do. I’m just going to do it. Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia.
But there was so much to do: cigarettes to smoke, sex to have, swings to swing on.
Francois Rabelais. He was a poet. And his last words were "I go to seek a Great Perhaps." That's why I'm going. So I don't have to wait until I die to start seeking a Great Perhaps.
I may die young, but at least I'll die smart.
When I look at my room, I see a girl who loves books.
What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous.
In the dark beside me, she smelled of sweat and sunshine and vanilla.
There comes a time when we realize that our parents cannot save themselves or save us, that everyone who wades through time eventually gets dragged out to sea by the undertow- that, in short, we are all going.
It always shocked me when I realized that I wasn’t the only person in the world who thought and felt such strange and awful things.
We need never be hopeless because we can never be irreparably broken.
Those awful things are survivable because we are as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be.
Sometimes you lose a battle. But mischief always wins the war.