Alex > Alex's Quotes

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  • #1
    Neil Gaiman
    “I believe that mankind's destiny lies in the stars. I believe that candy really did taste better when I was a kid, that it's aerodynamically impossible for a bumble bee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there's a cat in a box somewhere who's alive and dead at the same time (although if they don't ever open the box to feed it it'll eventually just be two different kinds of dead), and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself.”
    Neil Gaiman

  • #2
    Neil Gaiman
    “Religions are, by definition, metaphors, after all: God is a dream, a hope, a woman, an ironist, a father, a city, a house of many rooms, a watchmaker who left his prize chronometer in the desert, someone who loves you—even, perhaps, against all evidence, a celestial being whose only interest is to make sure your football team, army, business, or marriage thrives, prospers, and triumphs over all opposition. Religions are places to stand and look and act, vantage points from which to view the world. So none of this is happening. Such things could not occur. Never a word of it is literally true.”
    Neil Gaiman, American Gods

  • #3
    Cormac McCarthy
    “Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, he said. You might want to think about that.
    You forget some things, dont you?
    Yes. You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget.”
    Cormac McCarthy, The Road

  • #4
    Elie Wiesel
    “From the depths of the mirror, a corpse gazed back at me. The look in his eyes, as they stared into mine, has never left me.”
    Elie Wiesel

  • #5
    Cormac McCarthy
    “And perhaps beyond those shrouded swells another man did walk with another child on the dead gray sands. Slept but a sea apart on another beach among the bitter ashes of the world or stood in their rags lost to the same indifferent sun.”
    Cormac McCarthy, The Road
    tags: life

  • #6
    Stieg Larsson
    “What she had realized was that love was that moment when your heart was about to burst.”
    Stieg Larsson, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo

  • #7
    Stieg Larsson
    “There are no innocents. There are, however, different degrees of responsibility.”
    Stieg Larsson, The Girl Who Played with Fire

  • #8
    Stieg Larsson
    “When this is all over I'm going to found an association called 'The Knights of the Idiotic Table' and its purpose will be to arrange an annual dinner where we tell stories about Lisbeth Salander. You're all members.”
    Stieg Larsson

  • #9
    Victor Hugo
    “Before him he saw two roads, both equally straight; but he did see two; and that terrified him--he who had never in his life known anything but one straight line. And, bitter anguish, these two roads were contradictory.”
    Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

  • #10
    Stephen Chbosky
    “So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.”
    Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

  • #11
    Stephen Chbosky
    “And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.”
    Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

  • #12
    Stephen Chbosky
    “Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody.”
    Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

  • #13
    Stephen Chbosky
    “So, I guess we are who we are for alot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.”
    Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

  • #14
    Stephen Chbosky
    “Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
    he wrote a poem
    And he called it "Chops"
    because that was the name of his dog

    And that's what it was all about
    And his teacher gave him an A
    and a gold star
    And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
    and read it to his aunts
    That was the year Father Tracy
    took all the kids to the zoo

    And he let them sing on the bus
    And his little sister was born
    with tiny toenails and no hair
    And his mother and father kissed a lot
    And the girl around the corner sent him a
    Valentine signed with a row of X's

    and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
    And his father always tucked him in bed at night
    And was always there to do it

    Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
    he wrote a poem
    And he called it "Autumn"

    because that was the name of the season
    And that's what it was all about
    And his teacher gave him an A
    and asked him to write more clearly
    And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
    because of its new paint

    And the kids told him
    that Father Tracy smoked cigars
    And left butts on the pews
    And sometimes they would burn holes
    That was the year his sister got glasses
    with thick lenses and black frames
    And the girl around the corner laughed

    when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
    And the kids told him why
    his mother and father kissed a lot
    And his father never tucked him in bed at night
    And his father got mad
    when he cried for him to do it.


    Once on a paper torn from his notebook
    he wrote a poem
    And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
    because that was the question about his girl
    And that's what it was all about
    And his professor gave him an A

    and a strange steady look
    And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
    because he never showed her
    That was the year that Father Tracy died
    And he forgot how the end
    of the Apostle's Creed went

    And he caught his sister
    making out on the back porch
    And his mother and father never kissed
    or even talked
    And the girl around the corner
    wore too much makeup
    That made him cough when he kissed her

    but he kissed her anyway
    because that was the thing to do
    And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
    his father snoring soundly

    That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
    he tried another poem

    And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
    Because that's what it was really all about
    And he gave himself an A
    and a slash on each damned wrist
    And he hung it on the bathroom door
    because this time he didn't think

    he could reach the kitchen.”
    Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

  • #15
    Cormac McCarthy
    “You forget what you want to remember, and you remember what you want to forget.”
    Cormac McCarthy, The Road

  • #16
    Stephen  King
    “Before drifting away entirely, he found himself reflecting---not for the first time---on the peculiarity of adults. Thet took laxatives, liquor, or sleeping pills to drive away their terrors so that sleep would come, and their terrors were so tame and domestic: the job, the money, what the teacher will think if I can't get Jennie nicer clothes, does my wife still love me, who are my friends. They were pallid compared to the fears every child lies cheek and jowl with in his dark bed, with no one to confess to in hope of perfect understanding but another child. There is no group therapy or psychiatry or community social services for the child who must cope with the thing under the bed or in the cellar every night, the thing which leers and capers and threatens just beyond the point where vision will reach. The same lonely battle must be fought night after night and the only cure is the eventual ossification of the imaginary faculties, and this is called adulthood.”
    Stephen King, 'Salem's Lot
    tags: fear

  • #17
    Augusten Burroughs
    “My mother began to go crazy. Not in a 'Let's paint the kitchen red!' sort of way. But crazy in a 'gas oven, toothpaste sandwhich, I am God' sort of way.”
    Augusten Burroughs, Running with Scissors

  • #18
    Neil Gaiman
    “There was a girl, and her uncle sold her. Put like that it seems so simple.

    No man, proclaimed Donne, is an island, and he was wrong. If we were not islands, we would be lost, drowned in each other's tragedies. We are insulated (a word that means, literally, remember, made into an island) from the tragedy of others, by our island nature and by the repetitive shape and form of the stories. The shape does not change: there was a human being who was born, lived and then by some means or other, died. There. You may fill in the details from your own experience. As unoriginal as any other tale, as unique as any other life. Lives are snowflakes- forming patterns we have seen before, as like one another as peas in a pod (and have you ever looked at peas in a pod? I mean, really looked at them? There's not a chance you'll mistake one for another, after a minute's close inspection) but still unique.

    Without individuals we see only numbers, a thousand dead, a hundred thousand dead, "casualties may rise to a million." With individual stories, the statistics become people- but even that is a lie, for the people continue to suffer in numbers that themselves are numbing and meaningless. Look, see the child's swollen, swollen belly and the flies that crawl at the corners of his eyes, this skeletal limbs: will it make it easier for you to know his name, his age, his dreams, his fears? To see him from the inside? And if it does, are we not doing a disservice to his sister, who lies in the searing dust beside him, a distorted distended caricature of a human child? And there, if we feel for them, are they now more important to us than a thousand other children touched by the same famine, a thousand other young lives who will soon be food for the flies' own myriad squirming children?

    We draw our lines around these moments of pain, remain upon our islands, and they cannot hurt us. They are covered with a smooth, safe, nacreous layer to let them slip, pearllike, from our souls without real pain.

    Fiction allows us to slide into these other heads, these other places, and look out through other eyes. And then in the tale we stop before we die, or we die vicariously and unharmed, and in the world beyond the tale we turn the page or close the book, and we resume our lives.

    A life that is, like any other, unlike any other.

    And the simple truth is this: There was a girl, and her uncle sold her.”
    Neil Gaiman, American Gods

  • #19
    Neil Gaiman
    “What I say is, a town isn’t a town without a bookstore. It may call itself a town, but unless it’s got a bookstore, it knows it’s not foolin’ a soul.”
    Neil Gaiman, American Gods

  • #20
    Neil Gaiman
    “Grown-ups don't look like grown-ups on the inside either. Outside, they're big and thoughtless and they always know what they're doing. Inside, they look just like they always have. Like they did when they were your age. Truth is, there aren't any grown-ups. Not one, in the whole wide world.”
    Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

  • #21
    Neil Gaiman
    “I do not miss childhood, but I miss the way I took pleasure in small things, even as greater things crumbled. I could not control the world I was in, could not walk away from things or people or moments that hurt, but I took joy in the things that made me happy.”
    Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

  • #22
    Neil Gaiman
    “Books were safer than other people anyway.”
    Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

  • #23
    Neil Gaiman
    “Oh, monsters are scared," said Lettie. "That's why they're monsters.”
    Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

  • #24
    Elie Wiesel
    “The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference.”
    Elie Wiesel

  • #25
    Neil Gaiman
    “I liked myths. They weren't adult stories and they weren't children's stories. They were better than that. They just were.”
    Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

  • #26
    Neil Gaiman
    “May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art -- write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.”
    Neil Gaiman

  • #27
    Chuck Palahniuk
    “What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction.”
    Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

  • #28
    Neil Gaiman
    “You've a good heart. Sometimes that's enough to see you safe wherever you go. But mostly, it's not.”
    Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere

  • #29
    Neil Gaiman
    “Nobody looks like what they really are on the inside. You don’t. I don’t. People are much more complicated than that. It’s true of everybody.”
    Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

  • #30
    Neil Gaiman
    “An Angel who did not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards.”
    Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch



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