But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.
Boring damned people. All over the earth. Propagating more boring damned people. What a horror show. The earth swarmed with them.
He was one of the numerous and varied legion of dullards, of half-animated abortions, conceited, half-educated coxcombs, who attach themselves to the idea most in fashion only to vulgarize it and who caricature every cause they serve, however sincerely.
The world may be broken, but hope is not crazy.
I try to live life so that I can live with myself.
All those paper people living in their paper houses, burning the future to stay warm.
She was not an adventure, she was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl.
To be human is to catch the falling person.
Suffering is universal.
We think that we are invincible because we are.
People believed in an afterlife because they couldn’t bear not to.
You may be smart, but I’ve been smart longer.
I liked Augustus Waters. I really, really really liked him. I liked the way his story ended with someone else. I liked his voice. I liked that he took existentially-fraught free throws.
This star won’t go out. And it won’t. we won’t let it.
I leaned in toward her, suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that we must kiss.
So I let her go, too. And I’m sorry.