I ran. I ran until my muscles burned and my veins pumped battery acid. Then I ran some more.
More than one side? You’re Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass!
Also consider that someday, when you’re dead and rotted, kids with their baby teeth will sit in their time-geography class and laugh about how stupid you were.
Every time we burn a gallon of gas or an acre of rain forest, aren’t we killing the future to preserve the present?
What if reality is nothing but some disease?
You cannot be the person they know and the great, glorious person you want to become. Not at the same time.
You spend your entire life becoming God and then you die.
With insomnia, you’re never really awake; but you’re never really asleep.
Maybe self-improvement isn’t the answer, maybe self-destruction is the answer.
Not everything is about money. You didn’t even say, hello. You are not your sad little wallet.
I’m a toxic waste byproduct of God’s creation.
To hell with housework, our top priority has always been between our legs.
What would Tyler Durden do?
The avant-garde in every field consists of the lonely, the friendless, the uninvited. All progress is the product of the unpopular.
Deliver me, Tyler, from being perfect and complete.
Anymore, no one’s mind is their own.
You’re safe because you’re so trapped inside your culture. Anything you can conceive of is fine because you can conceive of it.
And the seventh rule is if this is your first night at fight club, you have to fight.
I love everything about Tyler Durden, his courage and his smarts. His nerve. Tyler is funny and charming and forceful and independent, and men look up to him and expect him to change their world. Tyler is capable and free, and I am not.
Six hundred and forty fish later, the only thing I know is everything you love will die. The first time you meet someone special, you can count on them one day being dead and in the ground.