Quotes About Existence

Dead people never seem to address the obvious - the things you'd think they'd be bursting to talk about, and the things all of us not-yet-dead are madly curious about. Such as: 'Hey, where are you now? What do you do all day? What's it feel like being dead? Can you see me? Even when I'm on the toilet? Would you cut that out?'

It's a given that we exist in a world where we have to live in continuity every day; no one is immune to that, in life or romance novels. By the same token, it's not something I find terribly important.

I've been covering North Korea nuclear issues since I was a young reporter in the Tokyo bureau of 'The Times' and wrote some of the first pieces about the existence of the program at Yongbyon.

There's no such thing as identity: it's something we have to believe in to make life more tolerable.

Why do I write? To investigate the mystery of existence. To tolerate myself. To get closer to everything that is outside of me.

In 'A Confession,' Tolstoy found meaning that he could hold on to, and he lived for another 30 years.

That's not a real answer.' Says who?' Says me. I mean real fear, like of failure, of death, of regret. Like that. Something that keeps you awake nights, questioning your very existence.' Clowns.

Birth, coupling, death. The more she thinks about it, the more it seems that that is all there is: a wheel turning over and over, moving so fast that sometimes you cannot even make out the spokes. It is a wonder there is any room for poetry.

Just breathing in and out suddenly seemed to require a series of massive, separately considered decisions, as if each small action of mine had abruptly become huge compared to all the ones the dead man was not taking.

People were made up of shit and piss and phlegm and bits and pieces of experience.

You can't quite catch sight of yourself as you go about your life, that's all. Your body doesn't contain its spirit, just as the mirror has relinquished your portrait. You are elsewhere

Body and soul can never be married I need to become who I already am and will bellow forever at this incongruity which has committed me to hell

But I am not here and never have been.

If there is a God, I'd like to look him in the face knowing I'd died as I lived. In conscious sin.

You can only kill yourself if you're not already dead.

beautiful pain that says I exist flicker punch slash dab wring press burn slash press slash punch flicker flash press burn slash dab flicker float flash flicker dab press burn slash press slash punch flash flicker burn and a saner life tomorrow

Ce n'est pas votre faute. -JE SAIS. -Mais vous l'autorisez. (Silence) Non ? Le matin apporte la défaite. belle douleur qui dit que j'existe et demain une vie plus équilibrée. -Si je suis en colère c'est parce que je comprends, pas le contraire. Je vous ai toujours bien aimé même quand je vous détestais.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you for rejecting me by never being there, fuck you for making me feel like shit about myself, fuck you for bleeding the fucking love and life out of me, fuck my father for fucking up my life for good and fuck my mother for not leaving him, but most of all, fuck you God for making me love a person who does not exist. FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU.

There's not a drug on earth can make life meaningful

No one survives life.

In a hundred and fifty years no one alive will ever have known me. Being forgotten like that, entering that great and ongoing blank, seems more like death than death. ?

Being forgotten like that, entering that great and ongoing blank, seems more like death than death.

There are no memories, just artifacts. And they're all lying.

There is another kind of suffering, though, a pure agony, free from thought.