A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius Quotes
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A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius Quotes
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“I like the dark part of the night, after midnight and before four-thirty, when it's hollow, when ceilings are harder and farther away. Then I can breathe, and can think while others are sleeping, in a way can stop time, can have it so – this has always been my dream – so that while everyone else is frozen, I can work busily about them, doing whatever it is that needs to be done, like the elves who make the shoes while children sleep.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“We have advantages. We have a cushion to fall back on. This is abundance. A luxury of place and time. Something rare and wonderful. It's almost historically unprecedented. We must do extraordinary things. We have to. It would be absurd not to.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“We lose weeks like buttons, like pencils.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“We feel that to reveal embarrassing or private things, we have given someone something, that, like a primitive person fearing that a photographer will steal his soul, we identify our secrets, our past and their blotches, with our identity, that revealing our habits or losses or deeds somehow makes one less of oneself. ”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“We are the bright new stars born of a screaming black hole, the nascent suns burst from the darkness, from the grasping void of space that folds and swallows--a darkness that would devour anyone not as strong as we. We are oddities, sideshows, talk show subjects. We capture everyone's imagination.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“We see the beauty within and cannot say no.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“Because secrets do not increase in value if kept in a gore-ian lockbox, because one's past is either made useful or else mutates and becomes cancerous. We share things for the obvious reasons: it makes us feel un-alone, it spreads the weight over a larger area, it holds the possibility of making our share lighter. And it can work either way - not simply as a pain-relief device, but, in the case of not bad news but good, as a share-the-happy-things-I've-seen/lessons-I've-learned vehicle. Or as a tool for simple connectivity for its own sake, a testing of waters, a stab at engagement with a mass of strangers.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“Why do you want to be on The Real World?
-Because I want everyone to witness my youth
Why?
-Isn't it gorgeous?”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
-Because I want everyone to witness my youth
Why?
-Isn't it gorgeous?”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“If you don't want anyone to know about your existence, you might as well kill yourself. You're taking up space, air.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“All we really want is for no one to have a boring life, to be impressive, so we can be impressed. ~ on the friends we choose.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“What the fuck does it take to show you motherfuckers, what does it fucking take what do you want how much do you want because I am willing and I'll stand before you and I'll raise my arms and give you my chest and throat and wait, and I've been so old for so long, for you, for you, I want it fast and right through me-- Oh do it, do it motherfuckers, do it do it you fuckers finally, finally, finally.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“Dignity is an affectation, cute but eccentric, like learning French or collecting scarves.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“Why did we do that to Pluto? We had it good with Pluto.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“I have no idea how people function without near-constant internal chaos. I'd lose my mind.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“Pain comes at me and I take it, chew it for a few minutes, and spit it back out. It's just not my thing anymore.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“Thank you," he says.
"Thank who?"
"I don't know. You?"
"No, not me. Jesus."
"Thank you, Jesus?"
"Yes, Toph, Jesus died for your Christmas fun.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
"Thank who?"
"I don't know. You?"
"No, not me. Jesus."
"Thank you, Jesus?"
"Yes, Toph, Jesus died for your Christmas fun.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“You have what I can afford to give. You are a panhandler, begging for anything, and I am the man walking briskly by, tossing a quarter or so into your paper cup. I can afford to give you this. This does not break me.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“We feel that to reveal embarrassing or private things, like, say, masturbatory habits (for me, about once a day, usually in the shower), we have given someone something, that, like a primitive person fearing that a photographer will steal his soul, we identify our secrets, our pasts and their blotches, with our identity, that revealing our habits or losses or deeds somehow makes one less of oneself. But it's just the opposite, more is more is more—more bleeding, more giving. These things, details, stories, whatever, are like the skin shed by snakes, who leave theirs for anyone to see. What does he care where it is, who sees it, this snake, and his skin? He leaves it where he molts. Hours, days or months later, we come across a snake's long-shed skin and we know something of the snake, we know that it's of this approximate girth and that approximate length, but we know very little else. Do we know where the snake is now? What the snake is thinking now? No. By now the snake could be wearing fur; the snake could be selling pencils in Hanoi. The skin is no longer his, he wore it because it grew from him, but then it dried and slipped off and he and everyone could look at it.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“my feeling is that if you're not self-obsessed you're probably boring.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“We are all feeding from each other, all the time, every day.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“I worry about exposing him to bands like Journey, the appreciation of which will surely bring him nothing but the opprobrium of his peers. Though he has often been resistant - children so seldom know what is good for them - I have taught him to appreciate all the groundbreaking musicmakers of our time - Big Country, Haircut 100, Loverboy - and he is lucky for it. His brain is my laboratory, my depository. Into it I can stuff the books I choose, the television shows, the movies, my opinion about elected officials, historical events, neighbors, passersby. He is my twenty-four-hour classroom, my captive audience, forced to ingest everything I deem worthwhile. He is a lucky, lucky boy! And no one can stop me.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“Good artists exist in what they make, and consequently are perfectly uninteresting in what they are.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“When my parents passed on, and we read their wills, we discovered something we didn’t at all expect, especially from our devoutly Catholic mother: they had both left instructions that their bodies be donated to science. We were bewildered and we were pissed. They wanted their cadavers to be used by medical students, they wanted their flesh to be cut into and their cancerous organs examined. We were breathless. They wanted no elaborate funerals, no expense incurred for such stuff – they hated wasting money or time on ceremony, on appearances. When they died there was little left – the house, the cars. And their bodies, and they gave those away. To offer them to strangers was disgusting, wrong, embarrassing. And selfish to us, their children, who would have to live with the thought of their cold weight sinking on silver tables, surrounded by students chewing gum and making jokes about the location of freckles. But then again: Nothing can be preserved. It’s all on the way out, from the second it appears, and whatever you have always has one eye on the exit, and so screw it. As hideous and uncouth as it is, we have to give it all away, our bodies, our secrets, our money, everything we know: All must be given away, given away every day, because to be human means:
1. To be good
2. To save nothing”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
1. To be good
2. To save nothing”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“But of course there's no logic to San Francisco generally, a city built with putty and pipe cleaners, rubber cement and colored construction paper. It's the work of fairies, elves, happy children with new crayons”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“Up there we see everything, Oakland to the left, El Cerrito and Richmond to the right, Marin forward, over the Bay, Berkeley below, all red rooftops and trees of cauliflower and columbine, shaped like rockets and explosions, all those people below us, with humbler views; we see the Bay Bridge, clunkety, the Richmond Bridge, straight, low, the Golden Gate, red toothpicks and string, the blue between, the blue above, the gleaming white Land of the Lost/Superman's North Pole Getaway magic crystals that are San Francisco.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“You will die, and when you die, you will know a profound lack of it [dignity]. It's never dignified, always brutal. What's dignified about dying? It's never dignified. And in obscurity? Offensive. Dignity is an affectation, cute but eccentric, like learning French or collecting scarves. And it's fleeting and incredibly mercurial. And subjective. So fuck it.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“How do you know this?
Because I'm always watching people. When I watch people I too look through them. I learned that from my mother. To glance is not enough; eyes and brains together, acting like a flock of ravenous birds, flapping, tearing, poking... I know everything about people when I look at them for only a moment. I can tell from their clothes, their walks, their hair and hands, I know all the bad things that they've done. I know how they've failed and how they will fail and how miserable they are.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Because I'm always watching people. When I watch people I too look through them. I learned that from my mother. To glance is not enough; eyes and brains together, acting like a flock of ravenous birds, flapping, tearing, poking... I know everything about people when I look at them for only a moment. I can tell from their clothes, their walks, their hair and hands, I know all the bad things that they've done. I know how they've failed and how they will fail and how miserable they are.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“[M]y mother read a horror novel every night. She had read every one in the library. When birthdays and Christmas would come, I would consider buying her a new one, the latest Dean R. Koontz or Stephen King or whatever, but I couldn't. I didn't want to encourage her. I couldn't touch my father's cigarettes, couldn't look at the Pall Mall cartons in the pantry. I was the sort of child who couldn't even watch commercials for horror movies - the ad for Magic, the movie where marionette kills people. sent me into a six-month nightmare frenzy. So I couldn't look at her books, would turn them over so their covers wouldn't show, the raised lettering and splotches of blood - especially the V.C. Andrews oeuvre, those turgid pictures of those terrible kids, standing so still, all lit in blue.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“Here is a drawing of a stapler:”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
“She pulls away, pats me on the shoulder with three mini-pats, like those used to pet reptiles.”
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
― A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius