And he found himself thinking that maybe stories don't just make us matter to each other - maybe they're also the only way to the infinite mattering he'd been after for so long.
He puts the killing thing in his mouth but doesn't give it the power to kill him.
This was what I liked most about my friends: just sitting around & telling stories.
You know your problem, Quentin? You keep expecting people not to be themselves.
The darkest nights produce the brightest stars.
It's like people believe all you need to do is like the same bands in order to be soulmates. Or book. Oh my god...you like The Outsiders too...it's like we're the same person! No, we're not. It's like we have the same English teacher. There's a difference.