A Philosophy of Scars Quotes
A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
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Mason Carter2 ratings, 5.00 average rating, 1 review
A Philosophy of Scars Quotes
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“Emma swallowed hard. A lump formed in her throat, but she forced herself to breathe. “Why do you do that?”
Mark tilted his head. “Do what?”
Emma stepped closer, her voice trembling just slightly. “Push people away before they can leave.”
Mark smirked again, but this time, it barely reached his eyes. “Because they always leave.”
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
Mark tilted his head. “Do what?”
Emma stepped closer, her voice trembling just slightly. “Push people away before they can leave.”
Mark smirked again, but this time, it barely reached his eyes. “Because they always leave.”
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
“Then, almost as if on its own, a single tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away roughly, shaking his head like he could shake away everything that had just happened.
With a sigh, he flicked his cigarette away, pulled another from his pocket, and lit it with shaky fingers.
Then he lay down on the cold rooftop floor, staring up at the sky.
The stars were distant, indifferent. They had seen this story a million times before.
And they knew how it always ended.”
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
With a sigh, he flicked his cigarette away, pulled another from his pocket, and lit it with shaky fingers.
Then he lay down on the cold rooftop floor, staring up at the sky.
The stars were distant, indifferent. They had seen this story a million times before.
And they knew how it always ended.”
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
“Drugs,” Hank clarified, as if talking about the weather. “Always high, always alone. Walks around like some tragic poet who lost his manuscript in a fire or something. He used to be something else, I heard. But now? He’s a mess.”
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
“Think about it—what does school really teach? Memorization. Who was born when, when they died, what happened when, who is who, what is what. That’s enough to pass exams, get a degree, and land a job. But does it teach you to think?”
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
“Illegitimate hierarchies—systems that force one person to submit to another—violate cooperation and mutual aid. That’s why things like rape are unethical. It’s not just about different moral views—it’s an act of domination.”
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
“A Russian social scientist Kropotkin believed morality is natural and instinctual. He pointed out that in nature, species that cooperate survive—birds fly in swarms, hunted animals move in herds, ants walk in lines, wolves hunt in packs. Darwin observed that cooperation leads to stronger biological organization”
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
“My mind is moving too fast. I can’t catch a single thought before it splinters into a hundred more. I pull out my phone, open my notes app, and start typing like a man possessed. Ideas. Plans. Theories. A novel I’ll never write. A new philosophy that makes perfect sense right now, but will probably look like nonsense in the morning.”
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
“I reached into my left pocket for a pack of cigarettes, drew one out, held it between my index and middle finger. I wasn’t addicted to cigarettes, but to the feeling of holding it, lighting it up, letting it burn—letting myself burn. The smoke rose, curling and twisting, as if painting her face in the air, delicate yet fleeting. Her long hair flowed with the wind in those ephemeral wisps, only to disappear before I could hold on to them. So I would take another puff, summon her back, breathe her into existence for just a moment more.”
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
― A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
