Being with him made my brain quiet. I didn’t have to invent a thing.
— Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close - Jonathan Safran Foer
4 months ago · 14 notes
If I’d been someone else in a different world I’d’ve done something different, but I was myself and the world was the world, so I was silent.
— Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close - Jonathan Safran Foer
4 months ago · 15 notes
Just because you’re an atheist, that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t love for things to have reasons for why they are.
— Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close - Jonathan Safran Foer
4 months ago · 5 notes
I have no need for the past, I thought, like a child. I did not consider that the past might have a need for me.
— Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close - Jonathan Safran Foer
4 months ago · 17 notes
I zipped myself all the way into the sleeping bag of myself, not because I was hurt, and not because I had broken something, but because they were cracking up.
— Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close ― Jonathan Safran Foer
4 months ago · 6 notes
I thought about life, about my life, the embarrassments, the little coincidences, the shadows of alarm clocks on bedside tables, I thought about my small victories and everything I’d seen destroyed. I’d swum through mink coats on my parents’ bed while they hosted downstairs, I’d lost the only person with whom I could have spent my only life, I’d left behind a thousand tonnes of marble from which I could have released sculptures, I could have released myself from the marble of myself, I’d experienced joy, but not nearly enough, could there be enough? The end of suffering does not justify the suffering, and so there is no end to suffering, what a mess I am, I thought, what a fool, how foolish and narrow, how worthless, how pinched and pathetic, how helpless in the universe. None of my pets knows their own name. What kind of person am I?
— Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close - Jonathan Safran Foer
4 months ago · 1 note
Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of, I never thought of myself as quiet, much less silent, I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn’t the world, it wasn’t the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, the cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don’t know, but it’s so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I’ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.
—
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close - Jonathan Safran Foer
“I’ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.”
4 months ago · 3 notes
