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Fiindca tot timpul pierdem, pierdem prieteni, iubite, dingreutate, din minte, pierdem viata, moartea, timpul, si chiar daca am castigat ceva ce ne-am dorit foartemult, ni se rupe, fiindca pierderile lasa locuri goale, care mai tarziu nu se vor mai acoperi niciodata.

Cand

incepi sa-ti cauti alte cuvinte, mai frumoase, realizezi ca nu spui nimic din ceeace crezi, din ceea ce aivrut sa spui initial.

Ma gandesc ce rost are, pe bune, ce rost au toate. Nu vreau sa fiu rautacios, dar de ce? De ce sa tetrezesti dimineata la opt si sa vii seara acasa la noua. Intre timp mananci in fuga, esti in realitate, dar incare? A altora. Intotdeauna in realitatea altora. Niciodata in a ta, proprie, nute traiesti niciodata pe tineinsuti. Nu ai timp. O fuga continua. La sfarsit nimic. De ce sa nu faci acest salt direct. Direct la nimic.

Pentru aceasta viata de cacat. Bucuria, fericirea, utopii. Bucuria de a te intalni cu prietenii care sunt si eidistrusi, de serviciu, de sotie, de sot, de alte rahaturi, intotdeauna prea mult. Niciodata nimic. Niciodataacea liniste, niciodata acea eliberare a creierului, cand te simti, te simti pursi simplu pe tine si nimicaltceva. Suntem fascinati de prietenie, de dragoste, fiindca nu intelegem cum altcineva ne poate simti, sepoate bucura de noi, cand noi nu facem acelasi lucru cu noi insine niciodata.

Viciile altora le avem sub ochi, dar pe ale noastre, n spate. Seneca

Doar oamenii mari pot avea vicii. - La Rochefoucauld

Pustnic. O persoana ale carui vicii si prostii nu sunt sociabile. - Ambrose Bierce

Dup o anumit vrst, toi oamenii au impresia c au naufragiat, c i-au ratat viaa, cvia idioat, absurd - o via care nu putea fi a lor, care nu putea fi dect viaa altuentru c avem o prere prea bun despre noi nine i nu putem crede c dac am fi trit vr viaa noastr, ea ar fi putut fi att de idioat.

Nimic nu dureaz n lumea asta; totul trece, totul se preface, totul moare ca s se na

sc din nou, altfel, n alt parte, cu ali oameni.

Tot ceea ce spui vorbeste despre tine; mai ales cnd vorbesti despre altii.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary

Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I seeall this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing

cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We'rethe middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War.No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is

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our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd allbe millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowlylearning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.

Hate is baggage. Life's too short to be pissed off all the time. It's just not worth it.

FIGHT CLUB

If you wake up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as adifferent person?

This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time.

Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buyshit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But w

e won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.

It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.

You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're notthe car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet.

When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake

And then, something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.

Fuck what you know. You need to forget about what you know, that's your problem.Forget about what you think you know about life, about friendship, and especially about you and me.

With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything's far away. Everything's a copy of a copy of a copy.

THE FOUNTAIN

Our bodies are prisons for our souls. Our skin and blood, the iron bars of confinement. But fear not. All flesh decays. Death turns all to ash. And thus, deathfrees every soul.

For every shadow, no matter how deep, is threatened by morning light.

All these years, all these memories, there was you. You pull me through time.

THE NUMBER 23

There's no such thing as destiny. There are only different choices. Some choicesare easy, some aren't. Those are the really important ones, the ones that define us as people.

People only pray because they think God will help them if they do.

THE PRESTIGE

Now you're looking for the secret. But you won't find it because of course, you'

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re not really looking. You don't really want to work it out. You want to be fooled.

Synecdoche, New York

Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is t

rue. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won't know for twentyyears. And you may never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it's what you create. And even though the world goes onfor eons and eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second.Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you waitin vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone orsomething to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but it doesn'treally. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope that something good will come along. Something to make you feel connected, something to makeyou feel whole, something to make you feel loved. And the truth is I feel so ang

ry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I've felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I've been pretending I'm OK, just to get along, just for, I don't know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.

What was once before you - an exciting, mysterious future - is now behind you. Lived; understood; disappointing. You realize you are not special. You have struggled into existence, and are now slipping silently out of it. This is everyone'sexperience. Every single one. The specifics hardly matter. Everyone's everyone.So you are Adele, Hazel, Claire, Olive. You are Ellen. All her meager sadnessesare yours; all her loneliness; the gray, straw-like hair; her red raw hands. It's yours. It is time for you to understand this.

Walk.

As the people who adore you stop adoring you; as they die; as they move on; as you shed them; as you shed your beauty; your youth; as the world forgets you; asyou recognize your transience; as you begin to lose your characteristics one byone; as you learn there is no-one watching you, and there never was, you think only about driving - not coming from any place; not arriving any place. Just driving, counting off time. Now you are here, at 7:43. Now you are here, at 7:44. Now you are...

Gone.

REVOLVER

There is something about yourself that you don't know. Something that you will deny even exists, until it's too late to do anything about it. It's the only reason you get up in the morning. The only reason you suffer the shitty puss, the blood, the sweat and the tears. This is because you want people to know how good,attractive, generous, funny, wild and clever you really are. Fear or revere me,but please, think I'm special. We share an addiction. We're approval junkies. We're all in it for the slap on the back and the gold watch. The hip-hip-hoo-fuckin' rah. Look at the clever boy with the badge, polishing his trophy. Shine on you crazy diamond, because we're just monkeys wrapped in suits, begging for the approval of others.

And i think I'll want to be alone

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Some nights, I'd have to sleep alone. I didn't mind, I would listen to the housebreathin'. All those people sleepin'. I felt... safe.

It's funny how sometimes the people we remember the least make the greatest impression on us.

ONE POINT O

I'm full of bugs. I'm full of mistakesSsshhh. Life is full of mistakes.

There are changes happening, not all of them good.

The bad people can save you but they won't. The good people wanna save you but they can't.

Ya know, you're gonna feel more comfortable for a while. And you're gonna sleep.And when you wake up, everything is gonna be different. Everything is gonna be

good. And the time that wewoke up, is the time we fall back. It's just the beginning.

500 DAYS OF SUMMER

Just because she likes the same bizzaro crap you do doesn't mean she's your soulmate.

Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin, and they end, with no lasting memories made in between. Most days have no impact on the course of a life.

Did you ever do this, you think back on all the times you've had with someone and you just replay it in your head over and over again and you look for those fir

st signs of trouble?

MR NOBODY

There comes a time in life where everything seems narrow. Choices have been made. I can only continue on. I know myself like the back of my hand. I can predictmy every reaction. My life has been cast in cement with airbags and seatbelts. I've done everything to reach this point and now that I'm here, I'm fucking bored. The hardest thing is knowing whether I'm still alive.

You have to make the right choice. As long as you don't choose, everything remains possible.