“I know it’s technically goodwill to all men, but in my mind, I drop the men because that feels segregationist/elitist/sexist/generally bad ist.Goodwill shouldn’t be just for men. It should also apply to women and children, and all animals, even the yucky ones like subway rats. I’d evenextend the goodwill not just to living creatures but to the dearly departed, and if we include them, we might as well include the undead, thosesupposedly mythic beings like vampires, and if they’re in, then so are elves, fairies, and gnomes. Heck, since we’re already being so generous in ourbig group hug, why not also embrace those supposedly inanimate objects like dolls and stu”

“It's moments like this, when you need someone the most, that your world seems smallest.I'm told there's no going back. So I’m choosing forwardThe exhaustion of living was just too much for me to talk any longerIt still might be a shock. To realize you are just one story walking among millionsWhy is it so much easier to talk to a stranger? Why do we feel we need that disconnect in order to connect?I had done it. I had embraced danger. The experience might have been an epic disaster, but it was still…an experienceWe are reading the story of our lives/ as though we were in it, /as though we had written itLike dogs and lions, small children can sense fear. The slightest flinch, the slightest disinclination, and they will jump atop you and devour youI might have liked to share a dance with you. If I may be so bold to sayIn a field, I am the absence of field. In a crowd, I am the absence of crowd. In a dream, I am the absence of dream. But I don’t want to live as an absence. I move to keep things whole. Because sometimes I feel drunk on positivity. Sometimes I feel amazement at the tangle of words and lives, and I want to be a part of that tangle…It’s only a game if there is an absence of meaning. And we’ve already gone too far for thatYou restore my faith in humanity Do you want to go get coffee or something tomorrow and discuss and analyze the situation at length?Let’s just wander and see what happensIt was rather awkward, insofar as we were both teetering between the possibility of something and the possibility of nothing.Fate has a strange way of making plansI love a man who doesn’t let go of the leash, even when it leads him to ruin”

“So what do you have to confess now?"I don't know why I'm saying any of this, except that it's the truth. "I'm confessing that I don't know if I'm ready for this.""What is 'this'?"Being open. Being hurt. Liking. Not being liked. Seeing the flicker on. Seeing the flicker off. Leaping. Falling. Crashing.”

“Aesthetic and utilitarian considerations aside," I said, "Those mittens don't particularly make sense. Why would you want to hitchhike to the North Pole? Isn't the whole gimmick of Christmas that there's home delivery? You get up there, all you're going to find is a bunch of exhausted, grumpy elves. Assuming, of course, that you accept the mythical presence of a workshop up there, when we all know there isn't even a pole at the North Pole, and if global warming continues, there won't be any ice, either.""Why don't you just fuck off?" the woman replied. Then she took her mittens and got out of there.”

“We believe in the wrong things. That's what frustrates me the most. Not the lack of belief, but the belief in the wrong things. You want meaning? Well, the meanings are out there. We're just so damn good at reading them wrong.I don't think meaning is something that can be explained. You have to understand it on your own. It's like when you're starting to read. First, you learn the letters. Then, once you know what sounds the letters make, you use them to sound out words. You know that c-a-t leads to cat and d-o-g leads to dog. But then you have to make that extra leap, to understand that the word, the sound, the "cat" is connected to an actual cat , and that "dog" is connected to an actual dog. It's that leap, that understanding, that leads to meaning. And a lot of the time in life, we're still just sounding things out. We know the sentences and how to say them. We know the ideas and how to present them. We know the prayers and which words to say in what order. But that's only spelling"It's much harder to lie to someone's face. But. It is also much harder to tell the truth to someone's face.The indefatigable pursuit of an unattainable perfection, even though it consist in nothing more than in the pounding of an old piano, is what alone gives a meaning to our life on this unavailing star. (Logan Pearsall Smith)Being alone has nothing to do with how many people are around. (J.R. Moehringer)You could be standing a few feet away...I could have sat next to you on the subway, or brushed beside you as we went through the turnstiles. But whether or not you are here, you are here- because these words are for you, and they wouldn't exist is you weren't here in some way.At last I had it--the Christmas present I'd wanted all along, but hadn't realized. His words.The dream was obviously a sign: he was too enticing to resist. Wow. You must have a lot of faith in me. Which I appreciate. Even if I'm not sure I share it. I could do this on my own, and not freak out that I had no idea what waited for me on the other side of this night. Hope and belief. I'd always wanted hope, but never believed that I could have such an adventure on my own. That I could own it. And love it. But it happened.Because I'm So uncool and so afraid. If there was a clue, that meant the mystery was still intactI fear you may have outmatched me, because not I find these words have nowhere to go. It's hard to answer a question you haven't been asked. It's hard to show that you tried unless you end up succeeding.This was not a haystack. We were people, and people had ways of finding eachother.It was one of those moments when you feel the future so much that is humbles the present.Don't worry. It's your embarrassment at not having the thought that counts. You think fairy tales are only for girls? Here's ahint- ask yourself who wrote them. I assure you, it wasn't just the women. It's the great male fantasy- all it takes is one dance to know that she's the one. All it takes is the sound of her song from the tower, or a look at her sleeping face. And right away you know--this is the girl in your head, sleeping or dancing or singing in front of you. Yes, girls want their princes, but boys want their princesses just as much. And they don't want a very long courtship. They want to know immediately. Be careful what you;re doing, because no one is ever who you want them to be. And the less you really know them, the more likely you are to confuse them with the girl or boy in your headYou should never wish for wishful thinking”

“She’s the reason he will probably become an embittered old fuck before he’s even of legal drinking age, distrusting women and writing rude songs about them, and basically from here into eternity thinking all chicks are lying cheating sluts because one of them broke his heart. He’s the type of guy that makes girls like me frigid. I’m the girl who knows he’s capable of poetry, because, like I said, there are things I just know. I’m the one who could give him that old-fashioned song title of a thing called Devotion and True Love (However Complicated), if he ever gave a girl like me a second glance. I’m the less-than-five-minute girlfriend who for one too-brief kiss fantasized about ditching this joint with him, going all the way punk with him at a fucking jazz club in the Village or something. Maybe I would have treated him to borscht at Veselka at five in the morning, maybe I would have walked along Battery Park with him at sunrise, holding his hand, knowing I would become the one who would believe in him. I would tell him, I heard you play, I’ve read your poetry, not that crap your band just performed, but those love letters and songs you wrote to Tris. I know what you’re capable of and it’s certainly more than being a bassist in an average queercore band—you’re better than that; and dude, having a drummer, it’s like key, you fucking need one. I would be equipment bitch for him every night, no complaints. But, no, he’s the type with a complex for the Tris type: the big tits, the dumb giggle, the blowhard. Literally.”

“I lost myself immediately in one of the books, only emerging when the phone rang.“Dashiell?” my father intoned. As if someone else with my voice might be answering the phone at my mother’s apartment.“Yes, Father?”“Leeza and I would like to wish you a merry Christmas.”“Thank you, Father. And to you, as well.”[awkward pause][even more awkward pause]“I hope your mother isn’t giving you any trouble.”Oh, Father, I love it when you play this game.“She told me if I clean all the ashes out of the grate, then I’ll be able to help my sisters get ready for the ball.”“It’s Christmas, Dashiell. Can’t you give that attitude a rest?”“Merry Christmas, Dad. And thanks for the presents.”“What presents?”“I’m sorry—those were all from Mom, weren’t they?”“Dashiell …”“I gotta go. The gingerbread men are on ”