Szymczyk Quotes

“The rats at the door had gone away. I drank another bottle of wine. To think I was once rich. I once had money. I had everything but something.

I used to think that all people desire to be cared for; some are so used to it that they take it for granted, others, who never feel it, desire it so much that they constantly
need it. So much in fact, that when they don’t receive it they have outbursts, and in the end they wind up pushing away those people who in the end would have cared for them
as their heart desired within its innermost depths. So they are always alone, always on the edge of society, within it, but at the same time, apart from it. They are like spectators
watching with envy the dance of mankind, wishing for that one feeling that only another’s love can bring. A whisper
that speaks to one and only one and says:

“You truly are worth something.”

They never know that feeling that shines on some.

So they cease to expect and begin looking elsewhere for that…wonderful whisper of…

War.

Love almost seems like war.

The ancient Greeks used to say, ‘Love as if you will one day hate.’

I used to think that meant something very
pessimistic, that love was not real.

But really, man is just an animal anyway.

It’s not just about that though, the Greeks meant more. It’s like, ‘Live as if you will one day die.’ Do not take
for granted life, and for the Greeks, do not take for granted your love. After all, it really is something special. Even if it doesn’t last, it’s the moment that matters. How cliché, but
the problem with most men is that they learn words, rather than the concepts that the words signify. And life, death, love, are these not the most important things, those which
a man should learn before all else. And the moment…what of this, even in misery it still matters. But all we learn are words and a way to be.

God I love wine.”
― Michael Szymczyk

“You look at everything wrong, and so long as you do so, this life will forever remain a tragedy to you, and the best things that lie in front of you will be forgotten for something that matters but little, simply because that matters little which one cannot have, and what is the point in wanting that which we cannot have if it takes away from the things in which we can have.

“And what can we have?” I asked.

Life, and the greatness that comes from living it. You are unique toilet, it is possible that in all of history, and all of the future there will never be one such as yourself. You are an individual, and being an individual you are as a star that shines but once, so shine brightly.”
― Michael Szymczyk, Toilet: The Novel

“In the silence, in the darkness of solitude, our
thoughts become the monsters that torment us like little children in the night.

I cannot tell myself this is a nightmare. O heaven high above me, how I wish…wish I were crazy, safe in some asylum, in a straightjacket…how I wish this were all made
up like a terrible dream…all to be awoken from with the swallowing of a little red and green pill.

But it is happening and no matter how hard I scratch and bite my flesh I will not wake up.

Silence.

Wer ist das? (The sound of breath, it takes me a minute to realize that it is mine own). Strange, but even then I do not know who that is.”
― Michael Szymczyk, Toilet: The Novel

“All those times back in my life when I had thought myself unhappy…how foolish I had been. Any man who experiences the worst looks back on all that was as better.
So it was with me.

“Call only that man happy who is dead.” The ancient Greeks once said that…but oh ye ones lost in the river of time…if only you knew, if only you knew.

Man, no matter what his situation, can be happy, if only he realizes that his situation could be worse.

But for me, there was no worse situation; I was like Croesus attached to the pyre, only there was no King to release me from being consumed by the flames.

But here, right now, as I write this, I am happy, because I am at war. War is the refuge for those who have nothing better to do.

The voice of my conscience, like an ancient Emathion head, was lost in the lust, devoured within the burning fire of my heart.

I poured some Beefaronis over my foot. The dim light of the flashlight shone upon it. Then I waited. One came, quickly, running across the room. It leaped at my foot but my hand grabbed it before its teeth could clench
down on my foot. The razorblade in my other hand came down hard upon its flesh. As I concentrated on murdering this poor rodent, I did not see the other rat scurrying across
the room.

The pain was deep. It did not just indulge in
Beefaronis, but its teeth dug deeper. I screamed.

I let the other rat go, throwing it across the room.
I did not know if it was dead or not, but I did not care. I tried grabbing the other rat, but it had dug itself in. I kept screaming. I felt as if a pitchfork was repeatedly struck through my body while I hung chained to a wall.

In a way, it almost felt good, because it was different from the deadening dullness that was normal.”
― Michael Szymczyk, Toilet: The Novel

“I spent most the day sleeping…or night…I
feel a little better. I know that there should be no more walks outside. But really…

I destroyed the tomb of shit. I dug the rat out and held its putrid body close to mine, and I cried, and as I cried I held tighter and tighter till the rat and me were one.
And as I cried I whispered, ‘Don’t leave me Mommy! Don’t leave! Hold me please!’ And I almost thought I could hear her whispering back, from somewhere deep within my head.
And as we held each other I forgot about all this crap I was buried in…I too was like this rat, we were both dead only I still awaited to be rescued from my grave of shit. But in this
moment I was rescued by some long lost memory…

A child’s joys. A child’s fears.

Do we ever grow out of them?”
― Michael Szymczyk, Toilet: The Novel