Do you know how there are moments when the world moves so slowly you can feel your bones shifting, your mind tumbling? When you think that no matter what happens to you for the rest of your life, you will remember every last detail of that one minute forever?
Envy, after all, comes from wanting something that isn't yours. But grief comes from losing something you've already had.
This is love, I think. A place where people who have been alone may lock together like hawks and spin in the air, dizzy with surprise at the connection. A place you go willingly, and with wonder
What looks like garbage from one angle might be art from another. Maybe it did take a crisis to get to know yourself; maybe you needed to get whacked hard by life before you understood what you wanted out of it.
You know how the tightrope guy at the circus wants everyone to believe his act is an art, but deep down you can see that he's really just hoping he makes it all the way across?
if i'm going to fuck up my life, does it really matter which way i do it?.
The truth was, history repeated itself on a daily basis; mistakes were made over and over. People were haunted by what they had done, and by what they hadn't had time to do.
A mathematical formula for happiness:Reality divided by Expectations.There were two ways to be happy:improve your reality or lower your expectations.
See, as much as you want to hold on to the bitter sore memory that someone has left this world, you are still in it
Sometimes you can see things happen right in front of your eyes and still jump to the wrong conclusions.
You know, the mind is a remarkable thing. Just because you can't see the wound doesn't mean it isn't hurting. It scars all the time, but it heals.
If we don't change the direction we are headed, we will end up where we are going.
Love was that way. You could not render it in black or white. It always came down to the strange, blended shades of grey.
Like a missing tooth, sometimes an absence is more noticeable than a presence.
And I remembered something else that makes us human: faith, the only weapon in our arsenal to battle doubt.
Anxiety's like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you very far.
When I was little I bragged about my firefighting father: my father would go to heaven, because if he went to hell he would put out all the fires
A sacrament--like marriage--means living a life better than your natural instincts, so that you're modeling God. And God never gives up.
Things that look impossible suddenly seem a lot better, once you get God on board.
Into the silence rips a sound that makes me let go of Max's hand and cover my ears. It is like the strafe of a bullet, nails on a chalkboard, promises being broken. It's a note I have never heard - this chord of pure pain - and it takes a moment to realize it is coming from me.