This is how we are protecting you, by getting you out.
If you ever want to see how small you are in the plan of God, just stand at the edge of an ocean.
We all fall but that’s not what matters. What matters is picking yourself up again.
And too much informayshun can drive a man mad. Too much informayshun becomes just Noise. And it never, never stops.
There’s so much wonder in the world. Don’t let no one tell you otherwise.
So the good prince was a murderer and the evil queen wasn’t a witch after all.
Because sometimes there are problems bigger than this week’s end of the world and sometimes you just have to find the extraordinary in your ordinary life.
We share out craziness, our neuroses, our little bit of screwed-up-ness that comes from our family. We share it. And it feels like love.
I feel like I’m way down this deep, deep hole and I’m looking up and all there is is this little dot of light and I have to shout at the top of my lungs for anyone to hear me and even when I do, I say the wrong thing or they don’t really listen or they’re just humouring me.
And yeah, I know most people would think it weird that two guy friends touch as much as we do, but when you choose your family, you get to choose how it is between you, too. This is how we work. I hope you get to choose your family and I hope it means as much to you as mine does to me.
It felt like waiting for something to happen. Which has to be the worth part of being young. So many of your decisions aren’t yours; they’re made by other people. Sometimes they’re made badly by other people. Sometimes they’re made by other people who have no idea what the consequences of those decisions might be. The bastards.
But I don’t care what you think, not about these things anyway. If you don’t think they’re real or important or you think that we’ll all grow out of this nonsense, well, that’s not really my business. I can’t tell you what’s real for you. But in return, you can’t say what’s real for me either. I get to choose. Not you.
But it’s a tradition, as if that alone is reason enough. Slavery and buying your wife were traditions, too.
You always assume you’re the least-wanted person there. The one everyone else could do without.
Sometimes you need things rather than just thoughts.
Never pass up the chance to be kissing someone. It’s the worst kind of regret.
And at first it’s okay, you know, not perfect, but okay, and you get used to it. Then it gets a little worse, and you get used to that, too. Then one day, you wake up and you don’t have the first freakin’ clue how it got that bad.
The answer is that it does not matter what you think, the monster said, because your mind will contradict itself a hundred times each day. You wanted her to go at the same time you were desperate for me to save her. Your mind will believe comforting lies while also knowing the painful truths that make those lies necessary. And your mind will punish you for believing both.
It was so much easier to be loved than to have to do any of the desperate work of loving.
Maybe hearts don’t ever stop breaking once broken.