“‘And ice-cream cones,’ she says. ‘What is it with you and ice-cream cones?’
‘I guess no one ever gets an ice-cream cone at a funeral, or a fire. The Red Cross doesn’t drop ice-cream cones into third-world countries. If you’re eating an ice-cream cone, it’s just very hard to believe that things have gone completely to shit. That there isn’t still hope.’”
-Jonathan Tropper, One Last Thing Before I Go
“But she needed no more advice and no more instruction. She was calm and quiet now with knowing what she had always known, what neither her parents nor Aunt Claire nor Frank nor anyone else had ever had to teach her: that if you wanted to do something absolutely honest, something true, it always turned out to be a thing that had to be done alone.”
-Richard Yates, Revolutionary Road
likely the source of my recurring nightmares of owning too many cats.
“Please, raise your glass. Here’s to perfection. Here’s to the end of all suffering. Here’s to being mastered with infinite benevolence. Here’s to being exterminated by our own creations. Here’s to never needing to solve another of our own problems ever again. Here’s to living for as long as the machines can keep our universe from decaying into a featureless void. Here’s to loving for that long, too, and loving perfectly, without error or sorrow, held forever on the edge of madness by our desire, but never tumbling over. Salud.”
Jack Nicholson with director Roman Polanski on the set of Chinatown, 1974
“a lovely, lyrical, lilting name…”
that print. that watch.