In a perfect world, you could fuck people without giving them a piece of your heart. And every glittering kiss and every touch of flesh is another shard of heart you’ll never see again.
NEIL GAIMANI mean, maybe I am crazy. I mean, maybe. But if this is all there is, then I don’t want to be sane.
More Neil Gaiman Quotes
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Everybody has a secret world inside of them. I mean everybody. All of the people in the whole world, I mean everybody – no matter how dull and boring they are on the outside.
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We often confuse what we wish for with what is.
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Every hour wounds. The last one kills.
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I don’t want whatever I want. Nobody does. Not really. What kind of fun would it be if I just got everything I ever wanted just like that, and it didn’t mean anything? What then?
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Wherever you go, you take yourself with you.
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Life is a disease: sexually transmitted, and invariably fatal.
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Adults follow paths. Children explore.
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Books make great gifts because they have whole worlds inside of them. And it’s much cheaper to buy somebody a book than it is to buy them the whole world!
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Ideas are more difficult to kill than people, but they can be killed, in the end.
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Not only are there no happy endings,’ she told him, ‘there aren’t even any endings.
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Most books on witchcraft will tell you that witches work naked. This is because most books on witchcraft were written by men.
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Because,’ she said, ‘when you’re scared but you still do it anyway, that’s brave.
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There’s none so blind as those who will not listen.
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Face your life, its pain, its pleasure, Leave no path untaken.
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A philosopher once asked, “Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?” Pointless, really…”Do the stars gaze back?” Now, that’s a question.
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Everybody going to be dead one day, just give them time.
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I liked myths. They weren’t adult stories and they weren’t children’s stories. They were better than that. They just were.
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I think I fell in love with her, a little bit. Isn’t that dumb? But it was like I knew her. Like she was my oldest, dearest friend.
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Even nothing can last forever.
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There are a hundred things she has tried to chase away the things she won’t remember and that she can’t even let herself think about because that’s when the birds scream and the worms crawl and somewhere in her mind it’s always raining a slow and endless drizzle.
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What do stars do? They shine.
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Tomorrow may be hell, but today was a good writing day, and on the good writing days nothing else matters.
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The house smelled musty and damp, and a little sweet, as if it were haunted by the ghosts of long-dead cookies.
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Stories may well be lies, but they are good lies that say true things, and which can sometimes pay the rent.
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I would like to see anyone, prophet, king, or God, convince a thousand cats to do the same thing at the same time.
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She says nothing at all but simply stares upward into the dark sky and watches, with sad eyes, the slow dance of the infinite stars.
NEIL GAIMAN