#thought

Last night your thin walls invited me to the party next door / reminded me I am a quiet person in a quiet life. ↗

— Drew Myron

#poem #poetry #quiet #quiet-life #quiet-mind

Many of us, I suppose, see our existences not as lives, but as life-holders, zarfs, waiting for the job, the person, the event to fill it. ↗

— Tibor Fischer

#life #the-thought-gang #thought-gang #tibor-fischer #life

I don't know why they call it life, it's just a moment with memories. ↗

— Tibor Fischer

#memories #philosophy #the-thought-gang #tibor-fischer #life

Dale, a Plutonian Dreg Bug, the kind with seventeen eyes and a bad temper, got nailed in one of his eyes by a wild dart. Fight broke out when he punched Earl in the nose. Earl’s nose is very sensitive, hell it’s how he sees, sort of. Earl plopped down on the floor crying when a Flying Mugwhap flew over and ate Dale’s eye. Dale grabbed the Mugwhap and squeezed a good deal of the life out of it before the bouncer stopped him. Karen, the bouncer, is a reticulated Hive Mother, and a mean mother when she’s pissed off. She walked over and flicked Dale upside his head. That flick knocked Dale out cold, and cost him two more eyes when he hit the wall. She helped Earl up and bought him a drink. A nasty drink by all the comments I’ve heard. Something between varnish and the stuff people get in the corners of their mouths with a nice aftertaste of silver polish. Earl seemed to like it though. ↗

— Neil Leckman

#thoughts #life

Raven had been shunned and abandoned throughout his life. Friends often came and went without a word or worse, they toyed with his emotions and shared his secrets with those he chose to distrust. His loneliness was inevitable and his secrets were damaging enough. Through all of his largely brief but emotionally involved friendships and infatuations, the depression and the darkness of his past, there had been one place to which he could go for solitude—either in thought or in person—and he never shared the knowledge of its existence or its secrets with anyone. That place dwelled within him even all of these years since the summer when he was nine and all that could ever have gone wrong, did. ↗

— Amanda M. Lyons

#loneliness #raven #secret-place #thoughts #friendship

Did your mom ever tell you, ‘If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything’? She was right–and talking nicely also applies when you’re talking to yourself, even inside your head. (339) ↗

— Victoria Moran

#self-love #talking #thoughts #words #love

My whole life, I had thought that my story was, again and again: Once upon a time, there was a boy, and he had to risk everything to keep what he loved. But really, the story was: Once upon a time, there was a boy, and his fear ate him alive. ↗

— Maggie Stiefvater

#fear #life #love #risk #story

Part of me wanted this more than anything else in the world—to have someone to hang out with, be like everyone else for a while. The rest of me screamed to get the hell out of there, not to get sucked in. ↗

— Rachel Ward

#conflict #desire #friends #love #mind

I am old enough to know only too well my good and bad qualities, which were often one and the same. For my entire life I longed for love. I knew it was not right for me - as a girl and later as a woman - to want or expect it, but I did, and this unjustified desire has been at the root of every problem I have experienced in my life. ↗

— Lisa See

#life

for he had acquired, as time went on, the firm conviction that any thought, even the most audacious, that any fiction, even the most insane, can one day materialize and see its fulfillment in space and time. ↗

— Stefan Grabiński

#fantasy #fiction #insanity #reality #thought