More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“You guys are so good at that,” he said. “I hope you get some satisfaction out of fooling the rest of us.” “It’s not like that,” I told him. “Then what’s it like?” “It’s like survival,” I said. “It’s exactly like survival.”
On lying
but lately I’m thinking we’ve had too much alone time in our lives. Too much of people just letting us be.
</3
this man who’s died, has left memories inside all of these other people.
If you’re used to people being shitty, it’s hard to accept niceness. Your instinct is to fuck it up. And run the hell away.
This isn’t worth you getting drunk over. Especially not for the rest of your life.
The past can’t help us now. What-ifs aren’t going to help us forward; they’re only going to drag us back.
You’ve got a heart. And it’s been hurt. And you’d rather hurt someone else than have them hurt you, but then you’re only hurting yourself.”
The boy’s right. You do have a heart. And it has been hurt. Part of the hurt’s come from that nugget of hope—so many nuggets of hope—bouncing around in there.
“Ever since your sister left, you have acted deplorably. I hoped that her departure would have freed you of her influence, but instead it seems to have amplified it.”
It’s wonderful when someone else sees you, the real you, but—and this may be the most profound thing I’ve ever thought or said—maybe the important thing is seeing yourself.
