So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.
What is an "instant" death anyway? How long is an instant? Is it one second? Ten? The pain of those seconds must have been awful as her heart burst and her lungs collapsed and there was no air and no blood to her brain and only raw panic. What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous.
They couldn't bear the idea of death being a big black nothing.
It always shocked me when I realized that I wasn’t the only person in the world who thought and felt such strange and awful things.
What you must understand about me is that I’m a deeply unhappy person.
Thomas Edison's last words were 'It's very beautiful over there'. I don't know where there is, but I believe it's somewhere, and I hope it's beautiful.
How will I ever get out of this labyrinth!
The not knowing would not keep me from caring.
When you stopped wishing things wouldn't fall apart, you'd stop suffering when they did.
What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant.
With the most powerful binoculars, I cannot see Alaska.
There were so many of us who would have to live with things done and things left undone that day. Things that did not go right, things that seemed okay at the time because we could not see the future. If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions. But we can't know better until knowing better is useless.
People believed in an afterlife because they couldn't bear not to.
A sensible woman should be guided by her head when taking a husband, and by her heart when taking a lover.
I'm not a music lover in the sense that I look for something to have on. I've never had that attitude to music.
But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail
It was a struggle treating Claude Rains as my lover, but we were friendly. It was no great love affair.
Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia.
I'm really not up for answering any questions that start with how, when, where, why or what.
A physicist is just an atom's way of looking at itself.
Suffering is universal. it’s the one thing Buddhists, Christians, and Muslims are all worried about.
And imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.
But the lover's power is the poet's power. He can make love from all the common strings with which this world is strung.
A lover always thinks of his mistress first and himself second; with a husband it runs the other way.
You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth.
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