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Maybe happiness is this: not feeling like you should be elsewhere, doing something else, being someone else.

It is just the literature that we read for “amusement” or “purely for pleasure” that may have the greatest, least suspected, earliest influence on us.

I was more of a genius in dreams than in life. That is my tragedy.

She seems so cool, so focused, so quiet, yet her eyes remain fixed upon the horizon. You think you know all there is to know about her immediately upon meeting her, but everything you think you know is wrong. Passion flows through her like a river of blood. She only looked away for a moment, and the mask slipped, and you fell. All your tomorrows start here.

…Things get broken, and sometimes they get repaired, and in most cases, you realize that no matter what gets damaged, life rearranges itself to compensate for your loss, sometimes wonderfully.

Be careful when you fight the monsters, lest you become one.

Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won’t know for twenty years. And you’ll never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it’s what you create. Even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but doesn’t really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope for something good to come along. Something to make you feel connected, to make you feel whole, to make you feel loved.

I have a lot more patience for others than I have for myself, and I’m much better at bringing out the best in others than in myself. That’s just the kind of person I am.

How can you suffer from the absence of a person who is present?

Nothing revives the past so completely as a smell that was once associated with it.

Do you ever find yourself reading a book, only to be 20 pages in and unable to recall anything that has happened?
While driving do you ever suddenly panic when you realize you were more focused on your thoughts than the road? Wondering how the hell your still in the right lane and on the right track.
Do you ever immerse yourself into a scorching hot bath and remove your wrinkled body 2 hours later? 
When your laying in bed, begging your thoughts to stop and your eyelids to close. 
Does it sometimes feel like a small eternity when it has only been 5 minutes?
Does it sometimes feel like its only been 5 minutes when it has in fact been a small eternity.
Does your grasp of time sometimes feel altered?
Mine does.
I guess that’s just my mind demanding to be heard. 
At least my body is equipped with auto-pilot.

Tell him yes. Even if you are dying of fear, even if you are sorry later, because whatever you do, you will be sorry all the rest of your life if you say no.

It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all - in which case, you fail by default.

To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.