Chuck Palahniuk

Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I've ever known.

Remember this. The people you're trying to step on, we're everyone you depend on. We're the people who do your laundry and cook your food and serve your dinner. We make your bed. We guard you while you're asleep. We drive the ambulances. We direct your call. We are cooks and taxi drivers and we know everything about you. We process your insurance claims and credit card charges. We control every part of your life.

We are the middle children of history, raised by television to believe that someday we'll be millionaires and movie stars and rock stars, but we won't. And we're just learning this fact. So don't fuck with us.

You are not special. You're not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else. We're all part of the same compost heap. We're all singing, all dancing crap of the world.

You know, the condom is the glass slipper of our generation. You slip it on when you meet a stranger. You dance all night, then you throw it away.

It's easy to cry when you realize that everyone you love will reject you or die.

Here's Big Brother, singing and dancing, force-feeding you, so your mind never goes hungry enough to think.

Either an ancient cursed Egyptian mummy has come back to life and is trying to kill the people next door, or they're watching a movie.

What you have to love about drinking is, every swallow is an irrevocable decision. You charging ahead, in control of the game. It's the same with pills, sedatives and painkillers, every swallow is a first definite step down some road.

Did perpetual happiness in the Garden of Eden maybe get so boring that eating the apple was justified?

After you find out all the things that can go wrong, your life becomes less about living and more about waiting.

The only difference between a suicide and a martyrdom really is the amount of press coverage.

Sometimes your best way to deal with shit is not to hold yourself as such a precious little prize.

If you love something set it free, but don't be surprised if it comes back with herpes.

No detail is too minor to note.

It's pathetic how we can't live with the things we can't understand. How we need everything labeled and explained and deconstructed.