Who am I to say that these things might nit be forever? Who is Peter Van Houten to assert as fact the conjecture that our labor is temporary?
What should a story seek to emulate, Augustus? A ringing alarm? A call to arms? A morphine drip? Of course, like all interrogation of the universe, this line of inquiry inevitably reduces us to asking what it means to be human and whether – to borrow a phrase from the angst-encumbered sixteen-year-olds you no doubt revile – there is a point to it all.
I liked listening to him. He was so excited, his eyes wide, like he genuinely loved his work. You don’t meet a lot of grown-ups like that.
Hazel is different. She walks lightly, old man.
People say friends don’t destroy one another What do they know about friends? – “Game Shows Touch our Lives,” The Mountain Goats.
Because relationships are so predictable, right? Well, I’m finding a way to predict them. Take any two people, and even if they’ve never met each other, the formula will show who’s going to break up with whom if they ever date, and approximately how long the relationship will last.
Mustang, but I shouted it anyway, one last desperate and furtive.
There are a number of ways to establish someone’s approximate survival expectations without actually asking.
Don’t worry. Worry is useless.
The town was paper, but the memories were not. All the things I’d done here, all the love and pity and compassion and violence and spite, kept welling up inside me.
The hour proceeded apace: Fights were recounted, battles won amid wars sure to be lost;.
I love you like a really drunk guy loves the best girl ever.
VAN HOUTEN!” I shouted. “Are you okay? Was that a cough?” “Kaitlyn, I love you. You are a genius. I have to go.
She either trusted me or wanted to fall.
The town was paper, but the memories were not. – Quentin “Q” Jacobsen.
You can love someone so much, he thought.
It became a weekend of reading, of trying to see her in the fragments of the poem she’d left for me.
The senses must feast while there is yet hunger and whatever.
All along, I kept thinking, I will never do this again, I will never be here again, this will never be my locker again, Radar and I will never write notes in calculus again.
I realize that the idea is not only wrong but dangerous. What a treacherous thing it is to believe that a person is more than a person.