“It does not make sense. It cannot exist. It's impossible, and if it isn't impossible, it's irrelevant, and if it isn't either of those things, it's embarrassing.”
“...it's impossible." "Yeah, isn't it? Life's a bitch and then one stabes you.”
“No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one’s existence--that which makes its truth, its meaning--its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream--alone.”
“It's interesting how a random event can change our lives in ways that would be impossible to imagine, isn't it?”
“Becoming fearless isn't the point. That's impossible. It's learning how to control your fear, and how to be free from it.”
“That’s the way these things work, kiddo,” he says. “Love isn't supposed to make sense. It's completely illogical.”