Years of living in the hope that what you'll get will be better than what you have. Years of looking and feeling worse in the hope that you might look better.

How everything you ever love will reject you or die. Everything you ever create will be thrown away. Everything you're proud of will end up as trash.

No, Miss Wright didn't want to meet her kid. To her, that relationship was just as important, just as ideal and impossible as it would be to the child. She'd expect that young man to be perfect, smart, and talented, everything to compensate for all the mistakes that she'd made. The whole wasted, unhappy mess of her life.

You realize that our mistrust of the future makes it hard to give up the past.

Today is just one of those days the sun comes out to really humiliate you.

Nothing is static. Even the Mona Lisa is falling apart. Since fight club, I can wiggle half the teeth in my jaw. Maybe self-improvement isn't the answer. Maybe self-destruction is the answer.

The world will always punish the few people with special talents the rest of us don’t recognize as real.