Face it, dude. You nearly did sex on God's table. You're already shame spiralling big-time.
It sounds as if you'd like to be God.
The feeling is less like an ending than just another starting point.
We live and we die and anything else is just a delusion.
Being tired isn't the same as being rich, but most times it's close enough.
Hey, even the Mona Lisa is falling apart.
If she was going to die, Marla didn't want to know about it.
Nothing was solved when the fight was over, but nothing mattered.
The lower you fall, the higher you'll fly. The farther you run, the more God wants you back.
Waiters will always pee in soup, people will always fall in love.
Be famous. Be a big social experiment in getting what you don't want. Find value in what we've been taught is worthless. Find good in what the world says is evil. I'm giving you my life because I want the whole world to know you. I wish the whole world would embrace what it hates. Find what you're afraid of most and go live there.
In the way our world is, everybody shoulder to shoulder, people knowing everything about you at first glance, a good veil is your tinted limousine window. The unlisted number for your face. Behind a good veil, you could be anyone.
The best way is not to fight it, just go. Don't be trying all the time to fix things. What you run from only stays with you longer. When you fight something, you only make it stronger.
You have to keep recycling yourself.
If you look at old pictures, Irene Casey is so pretty. Not just young, but pretty the way you look when your face goes smooth, the skin around your eyes and lips relaxed, the pretty you only look when you love the person taking the picture.
When you ate her tuna casserole, you didn't talk or flip through a National Geographic. Your eyes and ears stayed inside your mouth. Your whole world kept inside your mouth, feeling and careful for the little balled-up tinfoils Irene Casey would hide in the tuna parts. A side effect of eating slow was, you naturally, genuinely tasted, and the food tasted better. Could be other ladies were better cooks, but you'd never notice.
The joke is, we all have the same punchline.
For sure, they don't teach you this in history class, but in colonial times, the person who got left in the stocks overnight was nothing less than fair game for everybody to nail. Men or women, anybody bent over had no way of knowing who was doing the ram job, and this was the real reason you never wanted to end up here unless you had a family member or a friend who'd stand with you the whole time. To protect you. To watch your ass, for real.
It's nice to see something more pathetic than I feel right now.
The girl traced the outline of her lover's shadow so she would always have a record of how he looked...
We're all trapped. It's always 1734. All of us, we're stuck in the same time capsule, the same as those television shows where the same people are marooned on the same desert island for thirty seasons and never age or escape. They just wear more makeup. In a creepy way, those shows are maybe too authentic.
Believe in me and die forever.
Hey, you created me! I didn't create some loser alter-ego to make myself feel better. Take some responsibility!
If you could be either God's worst enemy or nothing, which would you choose?
Now this is the first rule of fight club: There is nothing a blue collar Nobody in Oregon with a public school education can imagine that a million-billion people haven't already done...
The more things you own, the more they own you.
We just had a near-life experience
Besides, it happens fast for some people and slow for some, accidents or gravity, but we all end up mutilated. Most women know this feeling of being more and more invisible everyday.
It happens fast for some people and slow for some, accidents or gravity, but we all end up mutilated.
The idea that I can't share my problems with other people makes me not give a shit about their problems.
You only ask people about themselves so you can tell them about yourself.
In a world where billions believe their deity conceived a mortal child with a virgin human, it's stunning how little imagination most people display.
You see, life only turns out good or bad for only a little bit. And then it turns out some other way.
The problem in this case was you can't be a middle-aged virgin in America without something being wrong with you. People can't conceive of a virtue in someone else that they can't conceive in themselves. Instead of believing you're stronger, it's so much easier to imagine you're weaker.
For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel peaceful. Not happy. Not sad. Not anxious. Not horny. Just all the higher parts of my brain closing up shop. The cerebral cortex. The cerebellum. That's where my problem is. I'm now simplifying myself. Somewhere balanced in the perfect middle between happiness and sadness. Because sponges never have a bad day.
It's okay to cry as long as you're faking it.
The little boy smiled back at all the angry faces glaring in at him. And the little boy blew kisses.
We've spent so much time judging what other people created that we've created very, very little of our own.
Believe in me and you shall die, forever.
How everything you ever love will reject you or die. Everything you ever create will be thrown away. Everything you're proud of will end up as trash.
If you died right now, how would you feel about your life?
Ok. You fuck me, then snub me. You love me, you hate me. You show me a sensitive side, then you turn into a total asshole. Is this a pretty accurate description of our relationship.
The sixth rule of Fight Club: No shirt, no shoes.
What you see at fight club is a generation of men raised by women.
Brandy is so attractive you could chop her head off and put it on blue velvet in the window at Tiffany's and somebody would buy it for a million dollars.
It's just the biggest mistake I could think to make
The most boring thing in the entire world is nudity. The second most boring thing is honesty.
Your being born makes your parents God. You owe them your life, and they can control you. Then puberty makes you Satan, just because you want something better.
It's a fun playtime. Please, don't kill it with big words.
A hotel, he told me, was a big house where a lot of people lived and ate and slept, but no one knew each other. He said that described most families in the outside world.
More Chuck Palahniuk Quotations (Based on Topics)
World - People - Life - Love - Time - Future - Emotions - Place - Truth - God - Death & Dying - Beauty - Night - Attention - Money & Wealth - Woman - Education - Past - Imagination & Visualization - View All Chuck Palahniuk Quotations
More Chuck Palahniuk Quotations (By Book Titles)
- Fight Club
- Invisible Monsters
- Rant: An Oral Biography of Buster Casey
Paulo Coelho - Ernest Hemingway - Mario Puzo - Louisa May Alcott - James Clavell - Honore de Balzac - Elizabeth Gilbert - Anne Bronte - Amy Tan - Alexander Dumas