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"I mean, I have the feeling that something in my mind is poisoning everything else."
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"We're all suicides. The tragedy is every day that we don't die."
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Personal Development
"One either cares what others think about him, or cares what others think he thinks about them. If you want to find someone who doesn't care in the slightest what anyone thinks, try a lunatic asylum."
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Personal Development
"There are always people who find their lives have become so unsupportable they believe the best thing they could do would be to hasten their transition to another plane of existence.""They kill themselves, you mean?" said Bod. He was about eight years old, wide-eyed and inquisitive, and he was not stupid."Indeed.""Does it work? Are they happier dead?""Sometimes. Mostly, no. It's like the people who believe they'll be happy if they go and live somewhere else, but who learn it doesn't work that way. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. If you see what I mean."
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Personal Development
"It is horrible being all alone."
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Personal Development
"People with OCD including myself, realize that their seemingly uncontrollable behavior is irrational, but they feel unable to stop it."
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Personal Development
"Being bored is the price we pay for not being insane."
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Personal Development
"To increase the chances of a writer trying to kill themselves, cut off their hands."
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Personal Development
"Seriously, why aren't you on drugs?" Cath walked past her out of the room."Are you a licensed psychiatrist? Or do you just play one on TV?""I'm on drugs," Reagan said. "They're a beautiful thing."
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Personal Development
"You think you're losing your mind, but do keep in mind, as long as you may, that the ability to go on thinking such a thing means it's not all gone."
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Personal Development
"She was not suicidal; that is what people never managed to grasp. Cutting relieved the pressure and stood as some enduring demonstration of her emotion, some way to be in control of a body that could toss her about with seizures. It was borderline artistic to mark her body, chiaroscuro designs in blood. Dying is the last thing she would want, like any healthy organism. A little pain, a small invoked sting trailing her arm, brought her much closer to grounded when she could not keep her head from racing, her thoughts from consuming her with obsession. An ounce of liquid weight loss and she could go back to being herself again. Usually."
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Personal Development
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"The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible."
Being
"Revelation can be more perilous than Revolution."
Revolution
"Existence is a series of footnotes to a vast, obscure, unfinished masterpiece."
Existence
"I would like to spare the time and effort of hack reviewers and, generally, persons who move their lips when reading."
Time
"A novelist is, like all mortals, more fully at home on the surface of the present than in the ooze of the past."
Home
"You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style."
Literature
"Aunt Rosa, a fussy, angular, wild-eyed old lady, who had lived in a tremulous world of bad news, bankruptcies, train accidents, cancerous growths-until the Germans put her to death, together with all the people she had worried about."
History
"His heart missed a beat and never regretted the lovely loss."
Emotion
"There are gentle souls who would pronounce Lolita meaningless because it does not teach them anything. I am neither a reader nor a writer of didactic fiction, and, despite John Ray's assertion, Lolita has no moral in tow. For me a work of fiction exists only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm. There are not many such books. All the rest is either topical trash or what some call the Literature of Ideas, which very often is topical trash coming in huge blocks of plaster that are carefully transmitted from age to age until somebody comes along with a hammer and takes a good crack at Balzac, at Gorki, at Mann."
Literature
"I was an infant when my parents died.Thye both were ornithologists. I've triedSo often to evoke them that todayI have a thousand parents. Sadly theyDissolve in their own virtues and recede,But certain words, chance words I hear or read,Such as "bad heart" always to him refer,And "cancer of the pancreas" to her."
Grief
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