Ask. Vent. I'll give it a go.
It often happens that the real tragedies of life occur in such an inartistic manner that they hurt us by their crude violence, their absolute incoherence, their absurd want of meaning, their entire lack of style. They affect us just as vulgarity affects us. They give us the impression of sheer brute force, and we revolt against that. Sometimes, however, a tragedy that possesses artistic elements of beauty crosses our lives. If these elements of beauty are real, the whole thing simply appeals to our sense of dramatic effect. Suddenly, we find that we are no longer the actors, but the spectators of the play. Or rather we are both. We watch ourselves, and the mere wonder of the spectacle enthralls us.
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (via dustandsunshine)
It seems to me that the whole meaning of human life can be summed up in the one statement that man only exists for the purpose of proving to himself every minute that he is a man and not an organ-stop.
Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from the Underground (via dustandsunshine)
Of course it is exhausting, having to reason all the time in a universe which wasn’t meant to be reasonable.
Kurt Vonnegut, Breakfast of Champions (via dustandsunshine)
I love you. And not, not in a friendly way, although I think we’re great friends. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way, although I’m sure that’s what you’ll call it. I love you. Very, very simple, very truly. You are the-the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being. And I know that you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is-is-is the furthest thing from an option you would ever consider. But I had to say it. I just, I can’t take this anymore. I can’t stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can’t-I can’t look into your eyes without feeling that-that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can’t talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are. And I know this will probably queer our friendship - no pun intended - but I had to say it, ‘cause I’ve never felt this way before, and I-I don’t care. I like who I am because of it. And if bringing this to light means we can’t hang out anymore, then that hurts me. But God, I just, I couldn’t allow another day to go by without just getting it out there, regardless of the outcome, which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down. And, you know, I’ll accept that. But I know, I know that some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there’s a moment of hesitation, then that means you feel something too. And all I ask, please, is that you just - you just not dismiss that, and try to dwell in it for just ten seconds. Alyssa, there isn’t another soul on this fucking planet who has ever made me half the person I am when I’m with you, and I would risk this friendship for the chance to take it to the next plateau. Because it is there between you and me. You can’t deny that. Even if, you know, even if we never talk again after tonight, please know that I am forever changed because of who you are and what you’ve meant to me, which - while I do appreciate it - I’d never need a painting of birds bought at a diner to remind me of.
Holden in Chasing Amy (via dustandsunshine)
How are we today? I’m feeling a little blue myself. You know, a little anxious for no particular reason, a little sad that I should feel anxious at this age, you know, a little self-conscious anxiety resulting in non-specific sadness: a state that I call ‘blue’.
The Drowsy Chaperone (via dustandsunshine)
What is Ahab supposed to do after he gets the whale? Melville did not prepare us for this possibility.
Jairus Grove (via dustandsunshine)
Ben, The Signal (via dustandsunshine)
Sometimes it still hurts. You know how it is, man. It’s like, you wake up every day and it hurts a little bit less, and then you wake up one day and it doesn’t hurt at all. And the funny thing is, is that, this is kinda weird, but it’s like, it’s like you almost miss that pain… for the same reason that you missed her… because you lived with it for so long.
Rob, Swingers (via dustandsunshine)
What, if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: ‘This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more’ … Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus? Or have you once experienced a tremendous moment when you would have answered him: ‘You are a god and never have I heard anything more divine.’
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science with a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs (via dustandsunshine)