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I think when you’re the worst of people, finding the worst in others becomes a survival tactic of sorts. You focus heavily on the darkness in people in the hopes of masking the true shade of your own darkness.
Sometimes I believe personalities are shaped more by damage than by kindness. Kindness doesn’t sink as deep into your skin as damage does. Damage stains your soul so bad, you can’t scrub it off. It stays there forever, and I feel like people can see all my damage just by looking at me.
Seeing the ocean in person feels almost as important as having food and shelter. It doesn’t seem far-fetched to believe a charity should exist for the sole purpose of allowing people to afford a trip to the beach. It should be a basic human right. A necessity. It’s like years of therapy, rolled up into a view.
Why do people judge other people based on how tightly their skin clings to their bones?”
“When you’re poor and you take a year off after high school, you’re throwing away your future,” I say. “But if you’re rich and you take a year off, it’s considered sophisticated. They even give it a fancy name.”
We just have too much piled on top of us to know what we’re like when we’re not under pressure.”
“Because most of the time, the fun you have that leads to the pain is worth the pain.”
Maybe you don’t have to know a person’s history to realize who they are in the present.
“So the saying is true? Money doesn’t buy happiness?” “When you’re poor, you have things to reach for. Goals that excite you. Maybe it’s a dream house or a vacation or even a meal at a restaurant on a Friday night. But the more money you have, the harder it is to find things to be excited about. You already have your dream house. You can go anywhere in the world anytime you want to. You could hire a private chef to make you every food you ever crave. People who aren’t rich think all those things are fulfilling, but they aren’t. You can fill your life with nice things, but nice things don’t
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“Don’t worry. Hearts don’t have bones. They can’t actually break.”
“If there’s nothing inside a heart that can break, why does it feel like mine is going to snap in half when I move? Does your heart not feel like that?” Samson’s eyes scroll over my face for a moment. “Yeah,” he whispers. “It does. Maybe we both grew heart bones.”
There’s a saying from Maya Angelou that reminds me of our situation. When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.
