Notes
One minute was enough, Tyler said, a person had to work hard for it, but a minute of perfection was worth the effort. A moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection.
“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,” Tyler said. “So don’t fuck with us.”
“We don’t have a great war in our generation, or a great depression, but we do, we have a great war of the spirit. We have a great revolution against the culture. The great depression is our lives. We have a spiritual depression.
At the time, my life just seemed too complete, and maybe we have to break everything to make something better out of ourselves.
“You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everyone else, and we are all part of the same compost pile.”
“If you don’t know what you want,” the doorman said, “you end up with a lot you don’t.”
Then you’re trapped in your lovely nest, and the things you used to own, now they own you.
“Getting fired,” Tyler says, “is the best thing that could happen to any of us. That way, we’d quit treading water and do something with our lives.”
“It’s only after you’ve lost everything,” Tyler says, “that you’re free to do anything.”
This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.