My Friends

by Fredrik Backman

Which is obviously because adults are the worst kind of humans.

Because rich people love reminding each other about how incredibly rich they are, so rich that they can buy things from God.

Because jellyfish, like guards, have neither backbones nor brains.

someone else needs to think something first so they can know what they’re allowed to love.

Louisa is surprisingly good at being invisible. The secret to that is knowing that you don’t mean anything to anyone. That you’re worthless.

but suddenly Louisa cares very much what he thinks, as if it would be a comfort if at least one single person and one single cat in the whole world didn’t have only negative thoughts about her.

“Life is long, Louisa. Everyone will tell you that it’s short, but they’re lying. It’s a long, long life.”

It’s an act of magnificent rebellion to do meaningless things, to waste time, to swim and drink soda and sleep late. To be silly and frivolous, to laugh at stupid little jokes and tell stupid little stories.

You have to take it for granted, the artist thinks, the whole thing: sunrises and slow Sunday mornings and water balloons and another person’s breath against your neck. That’s the only courageous thing a person can do.

Life is long, his friend had said in the hospital, but he didn’t mention the fact that almost every moment hurts when you have to live it alone.

Nothing weighs more than someone else’s belief in you.

Grief is a selfish bacteria, it demands all our attention.

You don’t wish for happiness when you have lost the love of your life, because you can’t even imagine ever feeling happy again. All you wish for is peace, calm, a long night’s sleep.

But train journeys suggest that you have somewhere to go, or someone to travel to, and she hasn’t had that sort of life.

A lack of self-confidence is a devastating virus. There’s no cure.

but the ultimate expression of love is nagging, we don’t nag anyone the way we nag the people we love. All parents know that, and so do all best friends.

“Don’t hurt yourself, because you’d be hurting me too.”

knowing that it would have been better if he didn’t exist at all.

because clouds are nothing and that was how he saw himself.

The less he had to give, the more everyone wanted.

The most dangerous thing you can give evil is free time, because that meant darker jealousy and deeper paranoia and more empty bottles.

“I understand,” she whispers. “I’m sorry that you do,” he whispers back.

Typical teenagers—for a generation that seems to take offense at everything, they really are pretty hard to insult.

But there’s a difference between being loved and receiving love,”