Bokelskere.no

Every loss is unprecedented. You can't ever know someone else's hurt, not really - just like touching someone else's body isn't the same as having someone else's body.

I guess at some point, you realize whoever takes care of you is just a person, and that they have no superpowers and can't actually protect you from getting hurt.

Even though I laughed with them, it felt like I was watching the whole thing from somewhere else, like I was watching a movie about my life instead of living it.

The thing is, when you lose someone, you realize you'll eventually lose everyone.

I was fascinated by her sadness for a while, by how, pretty as she was, she could not keep it to herself.

He wanted to excavate my past.

By their nature, it came to me, children were freaks. They believed impossible things to suit themselves, thought their fantasies were the center of the world. They were the best kinds of quacks, if that's what you wanted - pretenders who didn't know they were pretending at all.

I thought if I slammed the door hard enough, Mr. Grierson might come after me. That's what it's like to be fourteen.

It seemed unfair to me that people couldn't be something else just by working at it hard, by saying it over and over.

Så mye jeg ville fortalt, så mye jeg ville spurt om. Nå er det for seint. Fordi jeg var redd for spørsmålene og holdt spørsmålene tilbake, mens jeg burde vært modig og plutselig er det for seint. Lot mor være i fred, for å få være i fred, for å ikke såre henne og for å ikke bli såret mens jeg burde plaget henne med spørsmål for å ikke angre etterpå alt jeg ikke spurte om da jeg kunne spørre og hun kunne svare og ikke var død. Utsetter de avgjørende, de store spørsmålene til det er blitt et fjell av spørsmål og det er for seint.

Jeg har da overlevd, sier de, det har da blitt folk av oss, sier de og serverer barna sine sin egen barndom.

Før laget hun scener, det var som om hun hadde bomber i kroppen, har hun sagt, men hun har gått i psykoanalyse og kartlagt minelandskapet sitt.

For how can you remember the feel of pleasure or pain or chocking emotion? You can remember only that you had them.

It would be absurd if we did not understand both angels and devils, since we invented them.

"Some people think it's an insult to the glory of their sickness to get well"

"Lord, how the day passes! It's like a life - so quickly when we don't watch it and so slowly when we do"

The greatest terror a child can have is that he is not loved, and rejection is the hell he fears. I think everyone in the world to a large or small extent has felt rejection. And with rejection comes anger, and with anger some kind of crime in revenge for the rejection, and with that crime guilt - and there is the story of mankind. I think that if rejection could be amputated, the human would not be what he is.

They looked for a victim - someone to hurt because they were hurt.

She did not like death but she knew it existed, and when it came it did not surprise her.
Samuel may have thought and played and philosophized about death, but he did not really belive in it. His world did not have death as a member. He, and all around him, was immortal. When real death came it was an outrage, a denial of the immortality he deeply felt, and the one crack in his wall caused the whole structure to crash.

"Do you take pride in your hurt?" Samuel asked. "Does it make you seem large and tragic?"
"I don't know."
"Well, think about it. Maybe your playing a part on a great stage with only yourself as audience."