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In your dark workshop, let the sun shine on other men! Even our dull life has its own pride, its own happiness!

I sought happiness, and I shall find—perhaps death. It seemsit was to be thus: it seems it was a sin ... But death covers all and reconciles all; does it not?

You have a class of young strong men and women, and they want to give their lives to something. Advertising has these people chasing cars and clothes they don't need. Generations have been working in jobs they hate, just so they can buy what they don't really need.

There are a lot of things we don't want to know about the people we love.

This was freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.

You buy furniture. You tell yourself, this is the last sofa I will ever need in my life. Buy the sofa, then for a couple years you're satisfied that no matter what goes wrong, at least you've got your sofa issue handled. Then the right set of dishes. Then the perfect bed. The drapes. The rug.

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."

This is how it is with insomnia. Everything is so far away, a copy of a copy of a copy. The insomnia distance of everything, you can't touch anything and nothing can touch you.

This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.

Sometimes you do something, and you get screwed. Sometimes it's the things you don't do, and you get screwed.

It's easy to cry when you realize that everyone you love will reject you or die. On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone will drop to zero.

Only after disaster can we be resurrected.

"It's only after you've lost everything," Tyler says, "that you're free to do anything."