More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Andy Warhol was wrong. In the future, people won’t be famous for fifteen minutes. No, in the future, everyone will sit next to someone famous for at least fifteen minutes. Typhoid Mary or Ted Bundy or Sharon Tate. History is nothing except monsters or victims. Or witnesses.
How folks lay claim to a loved one is they give you a name of their own. They figure to label you as their property.
The future you have tomorrow won’t be the same future you had yesterday.
Some people are just born human. The rest of us, we take a lifetime to get there.
Picture the moment when your mom or dad first saw you as something other than a pretty, tiny version of them. You as them, but improved. Better educated. Innocent. Then picture when you stopped being their dream.
You grow up to become living proof of your parent’s limitations. Their less-than-masterpiece.
Something the wealthy know that most people don’t is that you never burn a bridge. Such a waste. Instead, you sell it.
Death is a tragic event, but stopping the flow of traffic is always seen as the greater crime.
You burn out your brain with rabies. Go all theta-trance-y with driving. You hit something and wake up naked in history.

