Life is short and a man should take pride in his work, even if his work makes him feel like a total loser.

I wanted to freeze the moment. Freeze it and jump inside of it and stay there until it melted into the warm, swishy liquid of happy memories.

It drives me crazy when people know me well enough to remind me what I believe.

I hoped his last sensation was the euphoria. The peace. The love. I had to believe it was the love.

I was alone. In ways people aren't supposed to be alone.

I remember feeling it even then- the sensation that your heart weighs more than your body- that it might burst out of your chest and splatter all over the wall. I suppose it's called loneliness.

These clever goddamn people. They really know how to play a guy. But holy Hell, their biggest skill is raping you, all the while making you think you're having consensual sex.

There's nothing worse than falling in love with a person over and over every time you lay eyes on them, especially when you hate their goddamn guts.

Oh my God, that would be just like An Officer and a Gentleman, Kat cried. Pick her up, Grace! Do it!

The phrase what I want struck me. It contains so much entitlement, so many complications, but encompasses only what a person doesn't have.

A song." I said aloud. "What?" "The whole time Adam and I were together, he never wrote a song for me." Vera looked like she was trying to think of an appropriate response to such a stupid desire. "He was a drummer. You hate it when drummers sing.

But when dreams come true in reality they never feel the same as when you imagine them, and you know what that means? It means that no matter how good things are, maybe they'll never be good enough, and there's something seriously wrong with that.

For the record, if I were Superman, a pale, scrawny guy holding a guitar would be Kryptonite.

That's why you have to save the dying man. Because you want him around to keep saving you.

That's the only way I could describe the music. It was the sonic equivalent of flight.

Made me want to pour rubber cement all over my chest and then lay down on top of her so that we'd be stuck together, and so it would hurt like hell if we ever tried to tear ourselves apart.

Eliza believes in me, she moves me, and she's moved BY me. She makes me happy, she makes me sad, she makes me try harder, she makes me laugh, and she makes me feel like I can fly. Isn't that the goddamn definition of love?

Anything less than mad, passionate, extraordinary love is a waste of time. There are too many mediocre things in life to deal with and love shouldn't be one of them.

Talent? That's not talent. Talent is Liza Minnelli tap dancing and singing at the same time. What I just saw was devastation. Dying man on the cross. Salvation in B minor.

We hovered above the moment like two rain clouds.

I guess I need to find a happy medium, someplace between giving them what they want and ending up face-down in a pool of my own goddamn integrity.

When I asked Vera why Michael was so obstinate, she told me that some asshole had recently broken Eliza's heart. A drummer, no less. Hell, even I know girls should stay away from the goddamn drummers.

I couldn't feel anything," I finally told him. "I couldn't feel the truth. Does that make sense? Do you know what the truth feels like?" "I know what it sounds like.

Paul was the past and evoking the past was a worthless human ability that had evolved for the sole purpose of reminding mortals of their mistakes.

Thoughts are king, Trixie, king!

I'd never seen that look on another face before, had never identified it in another person. I'd only met with it in fiction. But everyone falls in love with Holden Caulfield when they're sixteen. They read Catcher in the Rye and don't feel so alone.

Doug cleared his throat and said, Bonnie Raitt once told me coincidence is God's way of staying anonymous.

And sure, I could've stayed where I was, continued working my nowhere job, living in my nowhere apartment, eventually marry some nowhere man, have a few kids and anesthetize myself with provincial monotony like most of my peers had done, and before I knew it I'd be six feet under. I wanted more.

And when Paul dove to embrace me, the look on his face was one of absolute, perfect joy—the kind of joy that can't be reproached, stolen, or marred—the kind that only the innocent or the ignorant are capable of experiencing.

I imagined the towns were filled with people like me - lonely people who wanted to fly away, who wanted more from life than a dreary existence of one-stop shopping, but either didn't know what that meant, or didn't have the guts to go out and find it.

Reach out and touch faith.

It's easy to plant a seed and sprinkle it with water, but once the sun scorches the ground, and the earth soaks up all the moisture, you're left with nothing but a thirsty little flower trying desperately to make it out of the dirt.

Break my heart? Is that what you just said? I have news for you; you didn't break my heart. My heart's fine. My heart's in the best shape of its life. You know what you did to me? You took an AK-47 and blew my soul open.

The question is one of faith. Faith in my talent. Faith in my decisions. And faith in the idea that the truth, even if it can't pay my bills, can still set me free.

There's also nothing noble about being fearless. How much do you wanna bet the last man standing in a battle is usually the biggest fool of all? - Paul Hudson.

Maybe that was the key to getting rid of the loneliness, I thought. Treating love as entertainment, not salvation.

I asked John if it was a crime to want to live in a world where girls with falcon eyes and pretty underwear believe in the saving grace of rock ‘n' roll and he said, Just check your chute before you jump, that's all I'm saying. Gotta get some sleep. Over.

I felt betrayed and deceived, and I feared I'd never get to be a William Eggleston character.

For the rest of the day all I could think about was that precious fruit. The mango, that is.

It was something I thought about all the time: how death changes every remaining moment for those still living.

But sometimes, talent isn't worth shit. There are tons of talentless people out there making zillions of dollars. And unfortunately, an equal number of brilliant artists whose name and voices you'll never hear. - Paul Hudson.

Jacob would have rather looked out of place at the Ritz than look like he cared to fit in anywhere.

You can't wait forever for something, and then say it's too late when the time finally comes, even if every shred of incentive inside you has been lost.

For what it's worth, I don't go out of my way to be difficult. I just want to sleep with a clear conscience and wake up with the ability to look at myself in the mirror. I also want my life to be my own. Even if it's a shitty goddamn life, it's still mine.

Lying next to Eliza, I had the feeling I had I'd just found something I didn't even know I'd lost.

I heard a voice in my head. It said: I would rather be alone than ever be my mother. I will leave before I am left.

Forget the noose. Forget the Iron Maiden. Forget the electric chair or the guillotine. The mind was mankind's most painful torture chamber, the blessed liberty to cogitate offering either doom or salvation, depending on one's disposition.

You wanna know how to make God laugh? he said. Tell him your plans.

Jacob, if you want the milk, you have to buy the cow a meal.