I'm just reveling in the glory of not having to hear the neediness and impotence of my own voice.
I spy with my little eye a great story.
Because there is no glory in illness. There is no meaning to it. There is no honor in dying of.
And we're such language-based creatures that to some extent we cannot know what we cannot name. And so we assume it isn't real. We refer to it with catch-all terms, like crazy or chronic pain, terms t...
Always' was a promise! How can you just break the promise? Sometimes people don't always understand the promises they're making when they make them, I said.Isaac shot me a look. Right, of course. But...
Actually, the problem is that I lose my mind, I said. It’s inescapable.
We all want to do something to mitigate the pain of loss or to turn grief into something positive, to find a silver lining in the clouds. But I believe there is real value in just standing there, bein...
Human existence is temporary and all the knowledge of the universe we acquire will in time be forgotten because there will be no humans left to benefit from any of the stuff we learned.And yet, this d...
The Degree to which I am blessed staggers me... the degree to which I take that for granted shames me.-Streetwalking with Jesus
He'd fought hard, Lida told me, as if there was another way to fight.
You don't give a shit if people like you.
Y'all smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die.
What the hell is that? I laughed.It's my fox hat.Your fox hat?Yeah, Pudge. My fox hat.Why are you wearing your fox hat? I asked.Because no one can catch the motherfucking fox.
To be fair to Monica, I said, what you did to her wasn't very nice either.What'd I do to her? he asked, defensive.You know, going blind and everything.But that's not my fault, Isaac said.I'm not sayin...
This is it. I can't even not smoke anymore
They love their hair because they're not smart enough to love something more interesting.
There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it.
The thing about dead people... The thing is you sound like a bastard if you don't romanticize them, but the truth is... complicated, I guess.
The Z’s will kill us all, and then the Z’s will die out and in sixtyyears there will be no one to remember our silly war, Caroline’swasted ammunition, my year of zombic survivalism, Rene DesCartes’smu...
That was the worst part about having cancer, sometimes: The physical evidence of disease separates you from other people.