Mr. Magorium: [to Molly, about dying] When King Lear dies in Act V, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He's written "He dies." That's all, nothing more. No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words. The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic literature is "He dies." It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with "He dies." And yet every time I read those two words, I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria. And I know it's only natural to be sad, but not because of the words "He dies." but because of the life we saw prior to the words.

[pause, walks over to Molly]

Mr. Magorium: I've lived all five of my acts, Mahoney, and I am not asking you to be happy that I must go. I'm only asking that you turn the page, continue reading... and let the next story begin. And if anyone asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest "He died."

The crucified planet Earth,
should it find a voice
and a sense of irony,
might now well say
of our abuse of it,
"Forgive them, Father,
They know not what they do."

The irony would be
that we know what
we are doing.

When the last living thing
has died on account of us,
how poetical it would be
if Earth could say,
in a voice floating up
perhaps
from the floor of the Grand Canyon,
"It is done."

People did not like it here.

"Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not quite, the not yet, and the not at all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists. It is real. It is possible. It is yours"
- Ayn Rand

E.E. Cummings once wrote; To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle, which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting.

"For what it's worth: it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again."

When sometimes, we seems to remember things that we haven't done before, does it mean... does it mean that we already forgot that we're aging backwards?

I heard a joke once:

Man goes to doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life is harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world. Doctor says, "Treatment is simple. The great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go see him. That should pick you up." Man bursts into tears. Says, "But doctor... I am Pagliacci."

Good joke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum. Curtains.

"One of these days you’ll be under the covers, you’ll be under the table and you’ll realize all of your days are numbered; all of them one to one hundred, all of them millions, all of them trillions.

So what are you gonna do with them all?
You can not trade them in for more.

Take every moment; you know that you own them. It’s all you can do, use what’s been given to you. Give me a reason to fight the feeling that there’s nothing here for me. Cause none of its easy, I know it wasn’t meant to be. I know it’s all up to me.

So what am I gonna do with my time?
I'll take every moment, I know that I own them. It’s all up to you to do whatever you choose. Live like you’re dying and never stop trying. It’s all you can do, use what’s been given to you. All of the moments you didn’t notice, gone in the blink of an eye. All of the feelings you couldn’t feel no matter how you try.."

" Stay by my side
as my light grows dim
as my blood slows down
and my nerves shatter with stabbing pain
as my heart grows weak
and the wheels of my being turn slowly
Stay by my side
as my fragile body is racked by pain
which verges on truth
and manic time continues scattering dust
and furious life bursts out in flames.
Stay by my side
as I fade
so you can point to the end of my struggle
and the twilight of eternal days
at the low, dark edge of life.."

"At a certain point in your life, probably when too much of it has gone by, you will open your eyes and see yourself for who you are... especially for everything that made you so different from all the awful normals.

And you will say to yourself..."But I am this person."

And in that statement, that correction, there will be a kind of love."

Little girl in stroller to mother: Who made my heart, who made it, huh?
Mom: I made your heart, and God did.
Little girl: Can I eat it ?
Mom: No.
Little girl: Why not?
Mom: It doesn't taste good.
Little girl: Yes it does! It tastes like cake.

* courtesy of overheardinnewyork

Still, my fave :

Death: Del? That's not for eating. I think it's a table decoration.
Delirium: It's nice. It tastes a bit like forever... I like the way colors taste. Except I don't like crimsons... or turquoises... especially when they put their heads in their shells and won't play, and when you break their shells to let them out, they DIE...
Despair: That's turtles, dear. Or tortoises.
Delirium: I think it's Turquoises

Like Al Pacino with a pumpkin head..

Ah,Delirium... Once was Delight!

" Even after all this time,
the sun never says to the earth
'you owe me'

Look what happens with a love like that.
It lights the whole sky"

Did I disappoint you? Or leave a bad taste in your mouth? You act like you never had love and you want me to go without. Well, it's too late tonight to drag the past out into the light. We're one, but we're not the same, we get to carry each other.

Did I ask too much? More than a lot? You gave me nothing, now it's all I got. We're one but we're not the same. Well, we hurt each other then we do it again. You say love is a temple, love is a higher law. You ask me to enter but then you make me crawl and I can't be holding on to what you got when all you got is hurt.

"For a start I don't have anybody I'm in love with. To be honest, I think love is a complete bullshit. I don't think anyone ever loves anyone. I think the best people ever get is horny; horny and scared. So when they find someone who makes them horny, and they get too scared of the world outside, they stay together and they call it love. Second, I don't have anyone I hate. I mean, I know a hell a lot of assholes. But that's all they are. Assholes."

"I am Shiva the destroyer, your harbinger of doom this evening." -Kym

If there is something to pardon in everything, there is also something to condemn.

Norah: It reminds me of this part of Judaism that I really like. It's called Tikkun olam.It says that the world's been broken into pieces... and it's everybody's job to find them and put them back together again.
Nick: Well, maybe we're the pieces, you know? Maybe we're not supposed to find the pieces. Maybe we are the pieces.

Four-year-old girl: You know, sometimes I fart from my pagina.
Seven-year-old boy: That's impossible, you cannot fart from your pagina.
Four-year-old girl: Yes, I really fart from my pagina, and I do it all the time.
Seven-year-old boy: How do you know it's from your pagina and not your butt?
Four-year-old girl: I know what comes from my butt and what comes from my pagina. My pagina feels like a button.
Seven-year-old boy: I don't care. You do not fart from your pagina.
Four-year-old girl: Yes, I do, and Cinderella does, too.
Seven-year-old boy: Just stop talking to me.

*[credits to overheardinnewyork]

It's still not too late to wish, right?


New Year resolution?






Peace!

i've experienced it - what, five times already? - but the choking pain still as killing as the first time. "don't ever care too much" - that's the key. but how can you not to? that's the core for something like that to build up. the carelessness maybe, or the over protective, or maybe just the bored habit kicked in? or maybe... maybe,because of someone else? i just hope all of this to finish up quickly so the pretending will end, quick-sharply, like slitting my throat with a sharp blade...