“Even the things that look broken beyond repair have a chance at being whole again. It just depends how much you want to rebuild it.”
“The world was not perfect. It was dark, evil, and full of monsters in human disguise. The world’s a horrible place, and you were no safer surrounded by family than you were wandering the streets alone.”
“Life throws too much crap at us as it is, so why hold onto something negative if we don't have to?”
“Everyone says that getting over somebody 'just takes time' and that one day it will stop hurting and the door will open for you to move on. We are also told that love is eternal; something extraordinary that will stay with you forever... The contradiction is immense.”
“Even the things that look broken beyond repair have a chance at being whole again. It just depends how much you want to rebuild it.”
“love is eternal; something extraordinary that will stay with you forever.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my personalities. They’re all awesome”
“they took too many years of happiness from you. Don’t let them have another second longer.”
“Eat. Sleep. Watch crap on TV.”
“Everyone says that getting over somebody ‘just takes time’ and that one day it will stop hurting and the door will open for you to move on. We are also told that love is eternal; something extraordinary that will stay with you forever. However, after a break up, suddenly love becomes something you should get over once a little time had passed. The contradiction is immense. Right now, I was somewhere in the middle.”
“Even the things that look broken beyond repair have a chance at being whole again.”
“Jasper, has anyone ever diagnosed you with anything? Personality disorder or...” He rolled his eyes but grinned too. “Not you too.” “I think if more than one person comments on it you should make an appointment.” He grin widened. “There’s nothing wrong with my personalities. They’re all awesome”
“The world was not perfect. It was dark, evil, and full of monsters in human disguise. The world's a horrible place, ad you were no safer surrounded by family than you were wandering the streets alone.”
“EVERYONE SAYS THAT GETTING over somebody ‘just takes time’ and that one day it will stop hurting and the door will open for you to move on. We are also told that love is eternal; something extraordinary that will stay with you forever.”
“The night Cole and I made love was the best night of my life. It was the night when I had felt so loved and safe and normal. How could that possibly be wrong? Wiping”
“Miles is coming,” I blurted out. Her face dropped, and I leant forward slightly, ready to take off if necessary. “Miles is what?” Mum asked, sitting down. I cringed. “Coming here. Now.” She stayed perfectly calm, but she was probably planning on how she could kill me and dispose of my body. “Mum?” “Thank you,” she whispered. Thank you? What? “Huh?” She smiled and replied, “I need him here.” Admitting that was hard for her, I could tell. She didn’t trust men anymore, so it wasn’t easy for her to let one into our lives. “So, you admit it? You like Miles?” “Don’t get too carried away, young lady.” She grinned sheepishly, which told me everything. The doorbell rang, and Mum jumped. “Wow, he has good timing,” I muttered. Mum”
“How can I be secure? (Pause.) Through amassing wealth beyond all measure? No. And what’s beyond measure? That’s a sickness. That’s a trap. There is no measure. Only greed.”
“أنا الذي أشكك بكل شيء ، كيف لا أشكك كذلك بشكوكي ؟”
“Marginalia
Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
If I could just get my hands on you,
Kierkegaard, or Conor Cruise O'Brien,
they seem to say,
I would bolt the door and beat some logic into your head.
Other comments are more offhand, dismissive -
Nonsense." "Please!" "HA!!" -
that kind of thing.
I remember once looking up from my reading,
my thumb as a bookmark,
trying to imagine what the person must look like
who wrote "Don't be a ninny"
alongside a paragraph in The Life of Emily Dickinson.
Students are more modest
needing to leave only their splayed footprints
along the shore of the page.
One scrawls "Metaphor" next to a stanza of Eliot's.
Another notes the presence of "Irony"
fifty times outside the paragraphs of A Modest Proposal.
Or they are fans who cheer from the empty bleachers,
Hands cupped around their mouths.
Absolutely," they shout
to Duns Scotus and James Baldwin.
Yes." "Bull's-eye." "My man!"
Check marks, asterisks, and exclamation points
rain down along the sidelines.
And if you have managed to graduate from college
without ever having written "Man vs. Nature"
in a margin, perhaps now
is the time to take one step forward.
We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.
Even Irish monks in their cold scriptoria
jotted along the borders of the Gospels
brief asides about the pains of copying,
a bird singing near their window,
or the sunlight that illuminated their page-
anonymous men catching a ride into the future
on a vessel more lasting than themselves.
And you have not read Joshua Reynolds,
they say, until you have read him
enwreathed with Blake's furious scribbling.
Yet the one I think of most often,
the one that dangles from me like a locket,
was written in the copy of Catcher in the Rye
I borrowed from the local library
one slow, hot summer.
I was just beginning high school then,
reading books on a davenport in my parents' living room,
and I cannot tell you
how vastly my loneliness was deepened,
how poignant and amplified the world before me seemed,
when I found on one page
A few greasy looking smears
and next to them, written in soft pencil-
by a beautiful girl, I could tell,
whom I would never meet-
Pardon the egg salad stains, but I'm in love.”
“We're programmed for suffering, not joy. The masochism is built in at a very early age. You're supposed to work and suffer - and the trouble is: you believe it.”
“I doona want to be loved because I’m Undead. No more than ye would want to be rejected for being mortal.”
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