A lot of the books that I grew up reading were pretty brutal, like the Redwall books.
One thing I’ve learnt recently: how to think nothing. Here’s the trick: don’t have any interest in the world around you, don’t have any hope for the future, and be warm.
We wear our problems diffrently.
That’s what gets me through the day. Knowing that I could do it. That I’m strong enough to do it and I can get it done.
I found myself jealous of the people who wrote the books. They were dead and they were still taking up my time. Who did they think they were?
If you can’t get out of bed for long enough, people come and take your bed away.
People don’t make good Anchors, though, Craig. They change.
I wasn’t gifted. Mom was wrong. I was just smart and I worked hard. I had fooled myself into thinking that was something important to the rest of the world. Other people were complicit in this ruse. Nobody had told me I was common.
I like how you don’t hide your problems like everyone else, and I don’t have to hide mine when I’m around you.
It’s a huge thing, this Shift, just as big as I imagined. My brain doesn’t want to think anymore; all of a sudden it wants to do.
If there is a next life, I hope it’s in the past; I don’t think the future will be any more handleable. I think it’s a little harsh how the END button is red.
Dad nods, looks me dead in the eyes; slowly and regretfully, he banishes all the smiling and joking from his face, and for once he’s just my dad, watching his son who has fallen so low.
I want to live but I want to die. What do I do?
They’re sort of ancillary anyway, friends. I mean, they’re important – everybody knows that; the TV tells you so – but they come and go. You lose one friend, you pick up another.
I’m not afraid of dying, I’m afraid of living.
And when you say the truth you get stronger.
But some people have to get lucky just to live. And I never knew I could make anybody lucky.
I had hurt her feelings, I found out later; I didn’t know I had that power.
I owe her everything and I love her and I tell her these days, although every time I say it, it gets a little diluted. I think you run out of I love yous.
I’m still a nobody, when am I not going to be a nobody?
You shouldn’t be able to be alive and you are. You want to trade?