“HOW
do you define a word without concrete meaning? To each his own, the saying goes, so
WHY
push to attain an ideal state of being that no two random people will agree is
WHERE
you want to be? Faultless. Finished. Incomparable. People can never be these, and anyway,
WHEN
did creating a flawless facade become a more vital goal than learning to love the person
WHO
lives inside your skin? The outside belongs to others. Only you should decide for you -
WHAT
is perfect.”
“She is madness,
sanity. She is hell, and
paradise.”
“...what good would it
do to
shutter your windows, never
dream of rainbows or find hope
in promises? Why choose to
walk away
rather than hold your ground
and fight for love?”
“Bad choices or good, if you never take chances, someone else will build your life for you.”
“Ghosts don't scare me. Flesh and blood people do.”
“Am I more afraid
Of taking a chance and
learning I'm somebody
I don't know, or of risking
new territory,
only to find I'm the same
old me? There is comfort
in the tried and true.
Breaking ground
might uncover a sinkhole,
one impossible to climb out
of. And setting sail in
uncharted waters
might mean capsizing into
a sea monster's jaws.
Easier to turn my back on
these things
than to try tjem and fail.
And yet, a whisper insists
I need to know if they are or
aren't integral to me.
Status quo is a swamp.
And stagnation is slow death.”
“Love
Is
a curious thing. Sometimes
it barrels into you, leaves you
breathless. Other times, it comes
in-
to your life, a tentative beam
of morning sun sneaking
through the blinds, and you think
this
light isn't possible. The shutters
are drawn. Night should linger
on. I don't feel like waking. Yet the
room
comes slowly lit. Sleep slithers
away, and at last you can no
longer deny the dawning.”
“Death Is only the easy way out if you are the one who dies.”
“Fake
Is that what you are
if you choose to improve
the basic not perfect you?”
“When you've only got one little shimmer of sunshine, you capture it best you can.”
“When did creating a flawless facade become a more vital goal than learning to love the person who lives inside your skin?”
“If all you can promise me is today, I'll take it and hope for tomorrow.”
“Perfect?
How
do you define a word without
concrete meaning? To each
his own, the saying goes, so
why
push to attain an ideal
state of being that no two
random people will agree is
where
you want to be? Faultless.
Finished. Incomparable. People
can never be these, and anyway,
when
did creating a flawless facade
become a more vital goal
than learning to love the person
who
lives inside your skin?
The outside belongs to others.
Only you should decide for you---
what
is perfect”
“She is angle. I am
curve. Together, we are geometric
sculpture, and we make perfect sense.”
“Living means taking chances. Risks. Playing safe all the time is being dead inside, even if you happen to still be breathing.”
“Transformation
Isn't easy when most of the people
in your life think you're already
perfect, and want you to stay just
how they see you. Try to begin
a new phase, you'd better expect
push-back. Try to create a whole
new you, your friend list will shrink
considerably.”
“Not exactly. I see a girl who wants to present someone special to the world. Someone beautiful. The pinnacle of beauty. But she has lost her hold on reality. Real beauty isn’t thin. It isn’t size two, unless you happen to be four foot ten. What the world sees when they look at you is someone who believes self-worth is all about how she looks, and that very often means that what she’s missing is love. Not someone else’s love. But love and respect for herself.”
“There will never be color
blindness in a culture of
fear.”
“A Problem Is really just a solution in need of a reason to exist.”
“Love is Chocolate
The unprocessed kind. Dark. Bitter.
But always with the promise of sweet
perfection. All it takes is sugar-
that certain someone's kiss, flavored
with possibility. If Dani has taught
me anything, it's that life is brimming
with possibilities. Every single day
brings choices.”
“The truth is, I've always been afraid of letting anyone get too close. I built a wall around me, a barricade to hide behind those few times someone wanted entry to my heart.”
“For a long while. Finally she says, I don't believe in love. Not sure it really exists, but even if it does for some people, it won't for me. She is serious. Then she lightens up. But, hey, if you think you love me, cool.”
“Paradise
A concept embraced by almost every culture. A land of peace
and harmony. Some say it
doesn't
belong to the earth, that there
is no Shangri-la, no utopian
wilderness for the living.”
“I can see why she feels left behind. Maybe even discarded. Is that why she refuses to accept my love and return it? Afraid that love doesn't last? Doesn't really exist? Afraid if her own father can withdraw his love (or at least the manifestation of his love), that maybe she somehow isn't worthy of the emotion?”
“Commitment means losing yourself to gain something temporary. Nothing lasts. Not looks. Not love. I'm living large and living for today because there might not be a tomorrow.”
“back turned, you don't have to look at what you've left behind. And the first person who turned their back on you can't watch you break down and cry.”
“The Stain
That Conner left on our lives will
not vanish as easily. I don’t care
about Mom and her birds.
Their estimation of my brother
doesn’t bother me at all. Neither
do I worry about Dad and
what his lobbyist buddies think.
His political clout has not diminished.
As twins go, Conner and I don’t share
a deep affection, but we do have
a nine-months-in-the-same-womb
connection. Not to mention
a crowd of mutual friends. God,
I’ll never forget going to school
the day after that ugly scene.
The plan was to sever the gossip
grapevine from the start with
an obvious explanation—
accident. Mom’s orders were
clear. Conner’s reputation
was to be protected at all costs.
When I arrived, the rumors
had already started, thanks
to our neighbor, Bobby Duvall.
Conner Sykes got hurt.
Conner Sykes was shot.
Conner Sykes is in the hospital.
Is Conner Sykes, like, dead?
I fielded every single question
with the agreed fabrication.
But eventually, I was forced to
concede that, though his wounds
would heal, he was not coming
back to school right away.
Conner Sykes wasn’t dead.
But he wasn’t exactly “okay.”
“It looked up at them with animal-like intelligence, arching its back as it prepared to leap. “A ghoul!” Sion shouted. The robed skeleton waved its hand, and the doors slammed shut with an ominous boom, locking them in. Then Richter heard something even more disturbing from his Companion. “Fuck my life!”
“Success and likeability are positively correlated for men and negatively for women. When a man is successful, he is liked by both men and women. When a woman is successful, people of both genders like her less.”
“After spending most of her life scanning the horizon for slights and threats, genuine and imagined, she knew the real threat to her happiness came not from the dot in the distance, but from looking for it. Expecting it. Waiting for it. And in some cases, creating it. Her father had jokingly accused her of living in the wreckage of her future. Until one day she’d looked deep into his eyes and saw he wasn’t joking. He was warning her.”
“It was the American middle class. No one's house cost more than two or three year's salary, and I doubt the spread in annual wages (except for the osteopath) exceeded more than five thousand dollars. And other than the doctor (who made house calls), the store managers, the minister, the salesman, and the banker, everyone belonged to a union. That meant they worked a forty-hour week, had the entire weekend off (plus two to four weeks' paid vacation in the summer), comprehensive medical benefits, and job security. In return for all that, the country became the most productive in the world and in our little neighborhood it meant your furnace was always working, your kids could be dropped off at the neighbors without notice, you could run next door anytime to borrow a half-dozen eggs, and the doors to all the homes were never locked -- because who would need to steal anything if they already had all that they needed?”
“So grief has always seemed to me, a time of waiting not for the hurt to pass, but to become accustomed to it.”
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