The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.
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Chuck Palahniuk
Charles Michael "Chuck" Palahniuk (/ˈpɔːlənɪk/) (born February 21, 1962) is an American novelist and freelance journalist, who describes his work as "transgressional" fiction. He is the author of the award-winning novel Fight Club, which also was made into an acclaimed film of the same name. 2Early life Palahniuk was born in Pasco, Washington, the son of Carol Adele (née Tallent) and Fred Palahniuk. He has French, Russian, and Ukrainian ancestry. His paternal grandfather was Ukrainian and migrated to New York from Canada in 1907. Palahniuk grew up living in a mobile home in Burbank, Washington. His parents separated when he was 14 and subsequently divorced, often leaving him and his three siblings to live with their maternal grandparents at their cattle ranch in Eastern Washington. Palahniuk acknowledged in a 2007 interview that he is a distant nephew of actor Jack Palance, and that his family had talked of distant relations with Palance. In his 20s, Palahniuk attended the University of Oregon School of Journalism, graduating in 1986. While attending college, he worked as an intern for National Public Radio member station KLCC in Eugene, Orego
But if you tell folks you're a college student, folks are so impressed. You can be a student in anything and not have to know anything. Just say toxicology or marine biokinesis, and the person you're talking to will change the subject to himself. If this doesn't work, mention the neural synapses of…
We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.
Just for the record, she still loves you. She wouldn’t bother to torture you if she didn’t.
You’re always haunted by the idea you’re wasting your life.
Everything is a self-portrait. A diary. Your whole drug history’s in a strand of your hair. Your fingernails. The forensic details. The lining of your stomach is a document. The calluses on your hand tell all your secrets. Your teeth give you away. Your accent. The wrinkles around your mouth and…
Your handwriting. The way you walk. Which china pattern you choose. It’s all giving you away. Everything you do shows your hand. Everything is a self portrait. Everything is a diary.
It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.
It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.
Just for the record, she still loves you. She wouldn’t bother to torture you if she didn’t.
You’ll need to suffer to make any real art.
You’ll need to suffer to make any real art.
We all want to explain ourselves. Nobody wants to be forgotten.
Your handwriting. The way you walk. Which china pattern you choose. It’s all giving you away. Everything you do shows your hand. Everything is a self portrait. Everything is a diary.
You’ll need to suffer to make any real art.
We all want to explain ourselves. Nobody wants to be forgotten.
It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.
It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.
What you don't understand you can make mean anything.
Your handwriting. The way you walk. Which china pattern you choose. It's all giving you away. Everything you do shows your hand. Everything is a self portrait. Everything is a diary.