Know Not Why Quotes

“You know, I don’t think it’s worth it to deny yourself happiness just so you can stay faithful to the person you think you’ve become.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Um,” Arthur says. He’s looking at me dead-on, like he’s forcing himself to do it. God, I wish he would knock it off. I also wish he’d lose his eyelashes in a freak eyelash fire incident. And his lips, too, because all of a sudden I’m looking at them, what is that. “Yes. I thought we should discuss—”

“You mouth-mauling me?” I ask loudly, indignantly, like a tough sonuvabitch who doesn’t want to be mouth-mauled. I make myself meet his eyes. They’re green; I never paid attention before. This really light, interesting, intelligent green—

FUCK, this guy needs to STOP HAVING A FACE.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“He gives me a slight smile. I simultaneously want to, like, build shrines to it and punch it off his face. It’s complicated.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“What are we calling that, exactly?” I ask.

Arthur ponders this for a moment. “Hmm. How about … Haphazard Medley Inspired By Radio on the Drive Over, Messrs. McCartney, Lennon, Harrison, and Starr, The Most Hideous Preteen Holiday Monstrosity Ever Inflicted Upon The Ears Of Longsuffering Parents, The Smiths Because I Know You Like Them, And A Great Deal Of Nonsense Made Up Spur Of The Moment, All For The Beautiful Boy Who Is Sitting Next To Me, Because Somehow, Amidst The Recent Chaos, Dissatisfaction, And Mediocrity Of My Existence, Lord Knows How, I Seem To Have Done Something Very Right.”

Oh, this guy.

“You’re never going to fit that on any album sleeves,” I say, leaning in to rest my forehead against his.

“Just the beautiful boy part, then,” he compromises, starting to smile.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“He doesn’t quite kiss me, even though he’s close enough to. I look at him, loving the quiet and the quirk of his mouth when he smiles, thinking I could stick around this guy for always and be happy, thinking I could count his eyelashes and not get bored.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Backstage passes at a middle school choir concert. I hang with a crew who knows how to live.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Arthur reaches over to take them. As he does, his thumb brushes my thumb, and it’s so cold, this sudden shock of cold. The flowers get dropped. They make a slight, swishy sound as they hit the floor.

“Shit,” I say, my voice sounding really loud in my ears.

And then he kisses me.

It’s—

I don’t know.

I don’t know, I don’t know.

It’s my brain turning off, it’s nothing. It’s a feeling. It’s a mouth on mine, and fuck it. Fuck my whole goddamn life, man. Just fuck it. I don’t move away like I should, but neither does he. He puts one of his hands on my face.

Then the bells on the front door ring. We break apart and I open my eyes.

And there’s Arthur looking back at me.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Well,” he says; a smile curves his mouth, promising wonderful acts of misbehavior, “in that case—”

And, well.

I like my body when it’s with his body.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Hey, Arthur?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for turning into a lunatic that one time, chasing a bunch of shoplifting teenagers through a rainstorm, and coming back to kiss me in the fake flower aisle at random. In retrospect, I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” he says fondly.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Kristy smiles at both of us, the kind of smile that makes Julie Andrews look like a jaded crack whore.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Howie?” Arthur says.

“What?”

“Why do you want me to freak out?” He asks it sort of gently, which makes it worse somehow.

“Because you make me freak out all the time.” Maybe I’m not so totally chill, but whatever, whatever, I’m sick of it. “Like, honestly, I’m pretty sure I’ve started doing it professionally. Maybe you should start considering paying me extra. ‘Cause seriously, dude, when it comes to freaking out about you, I am the master. I am friggin’ incomparable, I got mad skills all over the place. And I don’t think this is exactly mutual freaking out, like, I don’t get the sense that I make you want to wither and die and explode. And that’s okay. That’s cool. I’m kind of going through a thing here that you probably went through a long time ago, unless you didn’t go through it at all because you’re just all together, like, you popped out of the womb, all, ‘Thanks for squeezing me out, Mom; no more pussy for me.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“I can be in control of my own actions, despite what my track record might imply to the contrary, and suddenly, I just feel like, sure. I can hold my boyfriend-yeah-that’s-right-world-boyfriend’s hand wherever I want to, and not because I want to be all, ‘Check it out, humanity, there’s someone out there who’ll hold my hand,’ but because we’re walking close enough that his arm is against mine and he’s musing over the meaning of ‘crunk’ like he’s sixty-five and somehow, by some mad glorious stroke of luck, he is mine to touch.

He looks down at our hands. Ever sensible, he’s wearing gloves, nice leather ones. I left in a hurry, and I’m not exactly the most practical guy to begin with; I’m barehanded, and my fingers are cold. He tightens his grasp on my hand, smiles at me a little bit. I smile back. Beats pockets.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“I’ve got this perception of Beethoven where he’s just, like, really pissed all the time. Yeah, ol’ Ludwig, he had a lot to pound on the piano bitterly about. I’m Germannnn! I’m deaffff! I’m bliiiind! My name is Ludwigggg!

Was he blind? I’m pretty sure.

Or, wait, maybe that was Helen Keller.

Was he even German?

Was she German?

Is Ludwig a name?

I’m starting to worry I’m just making shit up.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“I’ve never been a very lonely person. I’m very good at being on my own. But after I met him, I lost a bit of that. It was like he helped me find some whole new section of my heart, one I didn’t even know existed before. One for just him to fill. And when he wasn’t there to do it, I felt his absence so keenly. I suppose this sounds very cliché and silly.
It’s not that I didn’t want to fall in love someday. I did. I’m quite romantic, although I don’t know if it shows very much. But it seemed like such an abstract idea before. And something of an impossible one. And then I met him, and he was real, and it was all so unsettling and wonderful. But it’s still very hard business to really let yourself fall, I think. Especially when you’ve come to feel like it’s something you aren’t cut out for.
But he was very patient with me, and I just really, really did love him. Eventually it came to seem worth all of the struggle. -- Emily”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“That’s the kinda stuff that you’ve gotta figure out on your own, I think. Soul searching’s one of those things you do alone.”

Mitch and I sit in impressed silence at this wise reflection upon the nature of existence.

“Like jerking off,” he finishes, “or taking a dump.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“I surreptitiously attempt to practice his I’m Here And I’m Listening And I’m The Best Damn Boyfriend Ever expression on my own face. He does it so well. But it must be possible, right? It’s not like he’s that crazy-talented.

He’s about to start talking, but then he stops and stares at me.

“What?” I say, trying not to let my face muscles shift too much. This is damn tricky.

“You look like you’re about to start playing the world’s saddest song on its tiniest little violin,” Arthur informs me. “And then hug a kitten, and paint a rainbow, and watch Titanic whilst weeping profusely.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“...and he starts playing.

Cora shouts, "DO ME, PIANO MAN!"

And then a teacher swoops down and kicks us out.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Now, okay, important knitting life lesson right here: don’t go acrylic. Just don’t. Acrylic’s what you’re gonna find at, like, Wal-Mart, and acrylic is crap. I have it on good authority that it’s like knitting with barbed wire, that it’s squeaky, yeah, that’s right, squeaky, and that – although I can’t vouch for this one personally – apparently it’s what Satan uses to make Christmas sweaters for the ninth-circle sinners.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“I do like you," he says at last. "I very much like you. I don't quite know what to do with how much I like you most of the time.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“I feel stupidly flustered right now. “Okay, well, he’s still just like – and then there’s his friggin’ eyelashes—”

“You noticed his eyelashes?” Amber asks, like it’s weird to do.

It is, I realize with a horrible sinking feeling. It’s weird to notice somebody’s eyelashes.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Shhh,” she orders, reaching across the table and pressing her finger against my lips. “This is Mommy’s Lifetime monologue.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“This is going to be hideously trite,” he says. “Prepare yourself.”

“Prepared.”

“It’s Christmas. You love them. They love you. More than anything else, that’s what matters. Things will happen the way they happen, and you’ll sort out the way you feel about them, and it will be all right. And you’ll keep loving them, and they’ll keep loving you, and … God bless us, everyone.”

I consider this. “Kind of a weak ending.”

“I can’t help suspecting it would have resonated more if I were a sickly child in Victorian Britain,” he agrees wistfully.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“I could probably be into goats, sexy style, and [my mom] still wouldn’t use it against me. She’d want me to achieve whatever goat-wooing dreams I set my mind to. Bring Mrs. Goat home for the holidays.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Afterwards, we don’t head straight back to work. Instead, we stop at McDonald’s. Kristy gets a Happy Meal. Cora gets like four pies, which doesn’t exactly seem like a healthy, balanced meal to me, but she’s not exactly a healthy, balanced young lady. I get a couple of Big Macs and some fries. Arthur stares at the menu the way a time-traveling seventeenth century Puritan would watch a Lady Gaga music video.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“I set off on a mighty search for my pants, which I eventually discover underneath the futon. Sorry, pants. You serve me well, by and large, but when you gotta go, you gotta go.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Or, well, okay, the way Cora phrased it was, “You’re just like, oh my God, die, you fucking cocksucker scarf, screw this fucking knitting nonsense,” but.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“I spot something that looks distinctly footstoolish. Hello, antique ottoman. We meet at last.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Fuck you, shiny hair, and fuck the head you grew on.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“Asshole, I will pepperspray your ass, BACK OFF."

The first think I think is Cora!, even though it doesn't sound like Cora. Then my brain makes the leap to ... Amber!, who is always hovering at the top of my list of fierce ladies. This is succeeded, rather dazedly by Xena?, Buffy?, River Song?, Agent Scully?, Proffessor McGonagall?, President Laura Roslin of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol?, Mad Wife In The Attic From Jane Austen Not Eyre No Wait Damn It Eyre Not Austen?”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

“You're funny and quick and interesting and aggravating and attractive. Its such a wonderful relief to be with you."

A little wonderingly, he says, "You're exactly who I never would have picked out for myself.”
― Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why