The Shining Girls

She would disappear folded like origami into her own dreams

There are only so many plots in the world. It's how they unfold that makes them interesting.

The problem with snapshots is that they replace actual memories. You lock down the moment and it becomes all there is of it.

There are patterns because we try to find them. A desperate attempt at order because we can't face the terror that it might all be random.

The future is not as loud as war, but it is relentless. It has a terrible fury all its own.

Next time, can you ask him to bring cookies? I don't like to put up with that level of insane unless there's some kind of high-calorie compensation.

Memory is curated. All this paraphernalia you collect to ward off forgetting

Can't reinvent the wheel. But you can put your own spin on it.

But she was the kind of girl you couldn't keep down. Unless you cut her up and caved in her skull.

Being her friend was like going to a tropical island for a little fun in the sun, only to be kidnapped by terrorists.

She's even been practicing making out with the back of her hand. Which was about as effective as tickling yourself. It's why you needed other fingers, other tongues. Only other people can make you feel real.

Grown-up relationships are complicated. We got what we needed from each other. Passion. A safety net. Some kind of solace. It's lonely out there. But it ran its course. It was lovely while it lasted. But everything is finite. Life. Love. All this. Sadness too. Although that's harder to let go of than happiness. - Rachel Mazrachi

I'm scared, Mom." ... "It's okay, honey. It's all right. That's the big secret, don't you know? Everyone is. All the time.

Dope don't have no sympathy, not for love or family, definitely not for fear. Put dope and the devil up against each other in the ring, and dope will win out. Every single time.

Oh, but fine isn't everything!' Rachel exclaims and grabs her hands and pulls her into a stepping foxtrot over the paintings, twirling her round. 'Fine is the very definition of mediocrity. It's what's polite. It's what's socially acceptable. We need to live brighter and deeper than just fine, my darling!

We do this to ourselves. Society is a poisonous hamster wheel.

If you want to kiss me again, then shut the fuck up and stop bleeding to death

Affectionate violence. For when a hug just won't do. That's a Hallmark card for you.

Time heals. Crushes let up. Splinters work their way out. Doesn't mean they don't leave scars that itch.

Nothing is infinitely reducible. You can split an atom but you can't vaporize it. Stuff sticks around. It clings to you, even when it's broken.

Six foot eight and all asshole.

He adds, wistfully, "I don't suppose you have syphilis, do you?" "No." "Pity. There's a study starting in Alabama that would have paid for all your medical care if you did. Although you'd have to be a Negro." "I'm not that, either." "Too bad." The doctor shrugs.

(…) everything is finite. Life. Love. All this.' (…) 'Sadness too. Although that's harder to let go of than happiness.

You can bury your radical magazines and tear up your sexually perverse sketches and burn your sheets. But how do you erase who you are?

Fear festers in the imagination. It’s not fear’s fault. That’s just the way it’s made. Nightmares breed. Allies become enemies. Subversives are everywhere. Paranoia justifies any persecution, and privacy is a luxury when the Reds have the bomb.

It doesn't escape him that the rock holding it up is the perfect fit for his fist. Or how easily one of those needle spokes would slide right through the girl's eye like Jell-O.

And he's sorry he ever doubted the House. She's the one. One of the ones. His shining girls.

A gut wound will drop a man in his tracks every time. Harper always found it more personal than bullets, getting right up into someone. It made the war bearable.

It's why you need other fingers, other tongues. Only other people can make you feel real.