More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
The trouble with comparing yourself to others is that there are too many others. Using all others as your control group, all your worst fears and all your fondest hopes are at once true. You are good; you are bad; you are abnormal; you are just like everyone else.
Inner beauty can fade, too.
Like a vase, a heart breaks once. After that, it just yields to its flaws.
Horror is terror that stayed the night.
The trouble with letting people see you at your worst isn’t that they’ll remember; it’s that you’ll remember.
Some people care most about exhibiting how much they care.
Preferable to accepting one’s insignificance is imagining the others hate you.
Crying turns to laughing and laughing to crying—if the storm is intense enough, all the fuses in the house blow.
Judgments and feelings are incompatible and inextricable.
We hide in plain sight, in our bodies.
There are no memories, just artifacts. And they’re all lying.
I used to have a handwriting. Now I just have a signature.
Achieve a goal and suffer its loss.
Lack of effort poorly conceals lack of ability.
The trouble with setting goals is that you’re constantly working toward what you used to want.
Those whose every act is praised are handicapped by adoration. They grow stunted, shrivel up, lose the impulse to continue. Praise can kill.
