Save Me The Waltz

I'd finally come to understand what it had been: a yearning for a way out, when actually what I had wanted to find was a way in.

Alone had always felt like an actual place to me, as if it weren’t a state of being, but rather a room where I could retreat to be who I really was.

To try to break a man is one thing, to see him broken before you is another.

What is rare is not raw talent, skill, or even confidence, but humility, diligence, and self-awareness.

Philosophical reflection is a bad idea because, if you think you can find some basis for why you should live, why you should be moral, why you should do what you do – any kind of rational basis, you discover finally that there is no basis. You can always keep saying, ‘Why? Why? Why?’, until you undercut everything.

We're like the man who climbed on a chair and declared he was a little closer to the moon.

It’s not important to be significant. It’s important to follow those kinds of questions that are grabbing you.

“If it’s terrible enough, it’s totally liberating.”

We all got what I call a life trap, this gene-deep certainty that things will be different, that you’ll move to another city and meet the people that’ll be the friends for the rest of your life, that you’ll fall in love and be fulfilled. Fucking fulfillment and closure, whatever the fuck those two are… Fucking empty jars to hold this shitstorm, and nothing is ever fulfilled until the very end, and closure… No. No, no. Nothing is ever over.

To realize that all your life… you know, all your love, all your hate, all your memory, all your pain, it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream. A dream that you had inside a locked room. A dream about being a person. And like a lot of dreams there’s a monster at the end of it.