“Am I such a bad person for dreaming of a world that ends when I do? I don’t mean the world ending with respect to me, but every set of eyes closing with mine.”

As long as I am thinking, I am alive.

Shyness is when you turn your head away from something you want.

The bruises go away, and so does how you hate, and so does the feeling that everything you receive from life is something you have earned.

She wanted more, more slang, more figures of speech, the bee’s knees, the cats pajamas, horse of a different color, dog-tired, she wanted to talk like she was born here, like she never came from anywhere else

I’m sorry for my inability to let unimportant things go, for my inability to hold on to the important things.

I felt, that night, on that stage, under that skull, incredibly close to everything in the universe, but also extremely alone.

Every moment before this one depends on this one.

She said, “Do you have more things that you need, or more that you don’t need?” I said, “It depends on what it means to need.

In truth I was manufacturing a brick wall of shits.

It can be challenge enough to have to eat with myself.

Love me, because love doesn’t exist, and I have tried everything that does.

We could imagine all sorts of universes unlike this one, but this is the one that happened.

It’s the tragedy of loving, you can’t love anything more than something you miss.

Choosing leaf or flesh, factory farm or family farm, does not in itself change the world, but teaching ourselves, our children, our local communities, and our nation to choose conscience over ease can.

She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, appreciating its subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum.

Sometimes people who seem good end up being not as good as you might have hoped, you know?

To become what we are capable of becoming is the only end in life.

The pursuit of peace and progress cannot end in a few years in either victory or defeat.

“Toward what end, toward what end?”- but do not ask it too often lest you pass up the fun of programming for the constipation of bittersweet philosophy.

The Communist bloc of old was a study in the failure of failure. Losers in the Soviet economy were the people at the end of the long lines for consumer goods. Worse losers were the people who had spent hours getting to the head of the line, only to be told that the goods were unavailable.

It was a real education, going right from the consumer end to the record factory.

The end of the First World War had thrown Germany’s youth into great turmoil. The reins of power had fallen from the hands of a deeply disillusioned older generation, and the younger ones drew together in larger and smaller groups to blaze new paths or, at least, to discover a new star to steer by.

Clean fighting solves everything. It ends all bad blood and any ill feelings people have. That’s my thoughts.

I certainly would not like to end up in a tie-up with Ms. Rousey.