Quotes About Existence

Ed is just this weird ontological entity that produces unconditional slobbery loyal affection. Superfluous. Gratuitous. He must violate some kind of conservation law. Something from nothing: all of this saliva. And, I guess, love. Love from the abandoned heart of a nonexistent dog.

Chronological living is a kind of lie. That's why I don't do it anymore. Existence doesn't have more meaning in one direction than it does in any other. Completing the days of your life in strict calendar order can feel forced. Arbitrary.

about. She says that is exactly what she's crying about. That everything is all right. That the world isn't ending. That we'll never tell each other how we really feel because everything is okay. Okay enough to just sit around, being okay. Okay enough that we forget that we don't have long, that it's late, late in this universe, and at some point in the future, it's not going to be okay.

Living like this means the year stops making sense, and the month and the week. The dates fall away from the days, like glass punched out of window frames, or ice cubes out of a tray into a sink, identical, dateless, nameless durational blobs, melting into an undifferentiated puddle. Is that a Saturday, a Friday, a Monday? Is that

April 13, or a November 2? Living like this

The dates fall away from the days, like glass punched out of window frames, or ice cubes out of a tray into a sink, identical, dateless, nameless durational blobs, melting into an undifferentiated puddle.

I fix time machines during the day (whatever a day means for me—I'm not sure I even know that anymore), and at night I sleep alone, in a quiet, nameless, dateless day that I found, tucked into a hidden cul-de-sac of space–time.

I'm on trial for my own disappearance?

Nature wants us to enjoy life to the full and die without giving it a second thought; Christianity wants the opposite.

From such trivia, I believe my soul was born.

What do you want a meaning for? Life is a desire, not a meaning.

He said if a tree fell down in a forest, and there was nobody there to hear it, would it make a sound? I think what he meant was that sounds only become sounds when we hear them, otherwise it's just waves that go through the air. So if there were no ears there to pick up the sound waves then is there any sound at all?

If you write a book and nobody reads it, does the book exist? Stories in books, characters and things, you know, like places and monsters or whatever the writer has made up and written down, they only really come alive when we read them. Otherwise it's just a jumble of squiggles on bits of paper.

You've been a part of me forever. Don't you know that? I breathe your name in every exhalation.

We're all hurtling towards death. Yet here we are, for the moment, alive. Each of us knowing we're going to die. Each of us secretly believing we won't.

We are born to a time. What you do with it is on you. Do the best you can. Try to be good. And live.

I feel monotony and death to be almost the same.

Our very strength as lesbians lies in the fact that we are outside of patriarchy our existence challenges its life.

When we're lost in thought, when we're dreaming, what have we lost? We've lost reality. Our life has escaped us.

Within six weeks they were lovers... 'I realized, from having nearly died, that when you're alive, that's what you're supposed to be doing, being alive. There's plenty of time to be dead.

Eternity is not something that begins after you are dead. It is going on all the time. We are in it now.

Death? Why this fuss about death? Use your imagination, try to visualize a world without death! Death is the essential condition of life, not an evil.

Eternity is not something that begins after you are dead. It is going on all the time.

Death? Why all this fuss about death? Use your imagination, try to visualize a world without death! Death is the essential condition to life, not an evil.