thoughtful

Until I moved to Stockhold I had felt there was a continuity to my life, as if it stretched unbroken from childhood up to the present, held together by new connections, in a complex and ingenious pattern in which every phenomenon I saw was capable of evoking a memory which unleashed small landslides of feeling in me, some with a known source, others without. The people I encountered came from towns I had been to, they knew other people I had met, it was a network, and it was a tight mesh. But when I moved to Stockholm this flaring up of memories became rarer and rarer, and one day it ceased altogether. That is, I could still remember; what happened was that the memories no longer stirred anything in me. No longing, no wish to return, nothing. Just the memory, and a barely perceptible hint of an aversion to anything that was connected with it.

...just remember, darling, it is pain that changes our lives.

People shout when they don't have the vocabulary to whisper.

If losers can exploit what their adversaries teach them, yes, losers can become winners in the long term.

He licked his lips. __ell, if you want my opinion-___ don__, _ She said. __ have my own.

More than the sound of my own beating heart, I miss the sound of a ticking clock. Time passes. It must pass....

Afford every soul you encounter the wide and free passage they need to give birth to the dear expressions they feel are important.

Life is going to beat you up, it wouldn't be fair if you didn't throw some punches back at it

I was compared to Charles Bukowski yesterday. It was the best and worst compliment I've ever gotten.

He walked out in the gray light and stood and he saw for a brief moment the absolute truth of the world. The cold relentless circling of the intestate earth. Darkness implacable. The blind dogs of the sun in their running. The crushing black vacuum of the universe. And somewhere two hunted animals trembling like ground-foxes in their cover. Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it.

Writing is like talking to yourself, just in a way that makes it look like you're not crazy!

There's nothing wrong with enjoying looking at the surface of the ocean itself, except that when you finally see what goes on underwater,you realize that you've been missing the whole point of the ocean. Staying on the surface all the time is like going to the circus and staring at the outside of the tent.

I'm going to do something bigger and better,bigger and betterand bolder, but first,I'm going to do somethingsmaller and worse.

Always keep fighting

To __top and smell the roses_ we must first believe that there__ a rose garden out there somewhere. And in this jaded world of ours, the refusal to believe in gardens leaves most of us ref of roses.

It's strange how money seems to silence a neighborhood," I say quietly. "On my street, where no one has money, it's so loud. Sirens blaring, people shouting, car doors slamming, stereos thumping. There's always someone, somewhere, making noise.

The sexiest thing in the entire world is being really smart. And being thoughtful. And being generous. Everything else is crap! I promise you! It's just crap that people try to sell to you to make you feel like less. So don't buy it. Be smart, be thoughtful, and be generous.

Advantages never comes free. You have to create it the way you want it!