Quotes About Existence

I am like the people in the Winslow Homer paintings, sharing the same room with them but not really there. I am like the fish in the aquarium, thinking in a different language, adapting to a life that's not my natural habitat. I am the people in the other cars, each with his or her own story, but passing too quickly to be noticed or understood.

I collected their papers. The ones that blew into Brooklyn. They were just there at first. I didn't even know what they were. But once I did, I went all over the place, picking them up. I don't know what to do with them. I mean, they're meaningless now, but they still exist. You can't throw out something like that. You can't make them gone like that.

I am kissing her for a reason that transcends want and need, that feels elemental to our existence, a molecular component on which our universe will be built.

After a while, you have to be at peace with the fact that you simply are. There is no way to know why.

We know: An almost certain way to die is to believe you are already dead.

There are friends, but they are people to spend time with, not people to share time with. There's a false beast that takes the form of instinct and harps on the pointlessness of everything that happens.

People take love's continuity for granted, just as they take their body's continuity for granted.

I'm never going to figure it out, any more than a normal person will figure out his or her own existence. After a while, you have to be at peace with the fact that you simply are. There is no way to know why. You can have theories, but there will never be proof.

You have to be at peace with the fact that you simple are.

Even now, you refused to be pixelated, forgotten, silenced, erased. Not that I wanted to erase you. The opposite. I wanted the opposite.

You're alive, and this is what you're doing with it? Your youth grows pale. What do you have left? I tried to banish the thoughts from my head. But they were stubborn, and instead of leaving, they jumped on the floorboards inside my head.

We were once the ones who were living, and then we were the ones who were dying. We sewed ourselves, a thread's width, into your history.

I am not the enter of anything.

We lost track of time because we felt like time had lost track of us.

Jest when we stopped wanting to kill ourselves, we started to die.

But whether or not you are here, you are here—because these words are for you, and they wouldn't exist if you weren't here in some way.

Perhaps it never happened. Perhaps it happened while I was asleep. Most likely, there's no signal event. There's just the steady accumulation of 'awhile'.

once time is lit, it will burn whether or not you're breathing it in. even after smoke becomes air there is the memory of smoke.

To feel such a longing for his own life, even as he's living it—he wonders what that means.

life isn't real unless someone else knows its reality.

How can something that doesn't have a form, doesn'r have a definition, doesn't have words-how can it have such weight? And yet, there's the need to swim.

What's the point of something virtual if it doesn't end up being real?

Elijah's problem, in Danny's mind, is that he has no sense of what it takes to make a living. Danny's problem, in Elijah's mind, is that he has no sense of what it takes to make a life.

We do not start as dust. We do not end as dust. We make more than dust. That's all we ask of you. Make more than dust