Quotes About Meaning

Tell me what matters,' BZ said. 'Nothing,' Maria said.

They say an unexamined life is not worth living

A story is already over before we hear it. That is how the teller knows what it means.

Slowed time is -- or should be -- a way of pointing to what's important.

This is fictional time, where events play out and possibilities are exhausted, so that meaning can emerge.

Length is weight in fiction, pretty much.

All those moments, those memories. Everything that we are, compressed in just two or three kilos of paper — the weight of a human heart.

Those people who say that words have no power know nothing of the nature of words

CHURCH, not CHOCOLATE, is the TRUE MEANING of EASTER!!

Please! yelled Loki. I am not being noble!

Sometimes I think that maybe we are just stories. Like we may as well just be words on a page, because we're only what we've done and what we are going to do.

The weapons an author has at her disposal are flawed. There are words that feel shapeless and overused. Love, for example. I could write the word love a thousand times and it would mean a thousand different things to different readers. What is the point of trying to put down on paper emotions that are too complex, too huge, too overwhelming to be confined by an alphabet? Love isn't the only word that fails. Hate does, too.

Do you know what it's like to love someone so much, that you can't see yourself without picturing her? Or what it's like to touch someone, and feel like you've come home? What we had wasn't about sex, or about being with someone just to show off what you've got, the way it was for other kids our age. We were, well, meant to be together. Some people spend their whole lives looking for that one person. I was lucky enough to have her all along.

It took me a lifetime to realizethings don't get lost if they don't have value- you don't miss what you don't care about.

words are like nets - we hope they'll cover what we mean, but we know they can't possibly hold that much joy, or grief, or wonder.

All any of us wanted, really, was to know that we counted. That someone else's life would not have been as rich without us here.

What looks like garbage from one angle might be art from another. Maybe it did take a crisis to get to know yourself; maybe you needed to get whacked hard by life before you understood what you wanted out of it.

It was so damn hard to find love in this world, to locate someone who could make you feel that there was a reason you'd been put on this earth. A child, I imagined, was the purest form of that. A child was the love you didn't have to look for, didn't have to prove anything to, didn't have to worry about losing. Which is why, when it happened, it hurt so badly.

This was the reason there was music, he realized. There were some feelings that didn't have words big enough to describe them.

The weapons an author has at her disposal are flawed. There are words that feel shapeless and overused. Love, for example. I could write the word love a thousand times and it would mean a thousand different things to different readers.

How could you not want to draw breath one more day? How could your own life be such a cheap commodity? But then I started to understand: when your existence is hell, death must be heaven.

I was starting to see that what looks like garbage from one angle might be art from another. Maybe it did take a crisis to get to know yourself; maybe you needed to get whacked hard by life before you understood what you wanted out of it.

And if your parents have you for a reason, then that reason better exist. Because once it's gone, so are you.

Love is not an equation... It is not a contract, and it's not a happy ending. It is the slate under the chalk and the ground buildings rise from and the oxygen in the air.