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Bettering one’s understanding of the human condition is not a matter of profit

Aristotle‘s argument about how any living being, even the most primitive organism, was animated by an idea of good. Even the plant turned its face towards the sun. Even the tiniest ant sought food; the brainless worm sought soil. It was also easy for a living creatures, all except people, except people like her, who had a knack for seeking only that which made them miserable.

That wrath was not merely external; was not just a screaming raving tornado of destruction. Sometimes you swallowed it down like a hot coal. Sometimes it only ever burned you, slowly, from the inside out, until you choked.

But the lesson there, the nugget of truth within the paradox, was that happiness was comparative, not absolute. And this meant that if you could just outlast the other guy— if you could hold off even 10 mins before opening the cork — then at least you wouldn’t be the fool who drank the shitty wine. 🍷

We bear the same relationship to the version of ourselves from ten years ago as we might to a siblings.

Everyone else lived in such an ossified world. They simply took the rules given to them. They were interested only in articulating their own limits; they moved about us if in stone.

Hell is other people

Tomorrow felt as ephemeral as a kiss in the dark.

Chapter 10

Unknown wife you poor naive thing :(

The only frustration I carry away from this life is that of singing at so many funerals except my own.

Over the years, they both reached the same wise conclusion by different paths: it was not possible to live together in any other way, or love in any other way, and nothing in this world was more difficult than Love.

Her son had suffered from six blennorrhagias (gonorhea) , although the doctor had said they were not six but the same one that reappeared after each lost battle. He had also had a swollen gland, four warts, and six cases of impetigo in the groin, but it would not have occurred to him or any man to think of these as disease diseases; they were only the spoils of war.

He is a fuccboii.

Life in the world, which had cost her so much uncertainty before she was familiar with it, was nothing more than a system of atavistic contracts, Banal ceremonies, pre-ordained words, with which people entertained each other in society in order not to commit murder

The problem with marriage is that it ends every night after making love, and it must be rebuilt every morning before breakfast.

Pacifier? Wtf?

Poor Sasha.

Florentino is a fuccboii

He allowed himself to be swayed by his conviction that human beings are not born once and for all on the day, their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.

He is ugly and sad…but he is all love.

You cant kill yourself because you’re afraid of being an inconvenience

Chapter 20

Each man is master of his own death, and all that we can do when the time comes is to help him die without fear earth pain. I love this micro cling. It’s great. I love this mic thing. It’s great.

A day off meant we could do things we’d always meant to do. Like go to the botanical garden, the freight collection, or something. Read some fiction. Leisure, the problem with the modern condition was the death of leisure. And finally, it took a force of nature to interrupt our routines. We just wanted to hit the reset button. We just wanted to feel flesh with time to do things with no quantifiable value

His work ethic was like that of many immigrants, eager to prove your usefulness to the country that had deigned to adopt them. He didn’t get to enjoy his life, nearly enough.

Try to remember as much as you can. And because memories beget, more memories, you always remember more than you think is even there. The ones that are hidden from ourselves are the most revealing, give you the most information. Let your feelings fall away from you. A stock should never be personal. It is about envisioning.

Memories, beget, memories, fever, being a disease of remembering the fevered are trapped indefinitely in their memories, but what is the difference between the fevered and us because I remember to I remember perfectly my memories replay. I’m prompted on repeat and our days like there’s continue in an infinite loop we drive we sleep. We drive some more.