American Rust

by Philipp Meyer

You borrowed from the planet which borrowed it from the universe. A short-term loan at best. In the eyeblink of a planet you were born, died, and your bones disintegrated.

this is what it means to get old, you don’t look forward to pleasure so much as easing pain.

she needed to get a handle on life instead of spending her time daydreaming.

He would stop being the kind of punk that put everything off till tomorrow. No excuses it was time to grow up. In his way he was still a momma’s boy.

Your only duty—make the best of it. The only true sin—not appreciating life.

Nothing mankind was capable of, the worst of human nature, it would never linger long enough to matter, any river or mountain could show you that—filthy them up, cut down all the trees, still they healed themselves, even trees outlived us, stones would survive the end of the earth. You forgot that sometimes—you begin to take the human ugliness personally. But it was as temporary as anything else.

All the things you needed to know in life—you didn’t learn them until you’d already made your decisions.

He had slept through life, let the currents take him. He had let the currents take him faster and faster and he had not noticed.

When do I stop being the same person? In other people’s minds or your own?