Chuck Palahniuk

You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice. Every minute is a choice. Every time you don't throw yourself down the stairs, that's a choice. Every time you don't crash your car, you re-enlist.

They told me that nothing was a sin, just a poor life choice. Poor impulse control. That nothing is evil. Any concept of right versus wrong, according to them, is merely a cultural construct relative to one specific time and place. They said that if anything should force us to modify our personal behavior it should be our allegiance to a social contract, not some vague, externally imposed threat of flaming punishment.

[W]hat makes earth feel like Hell is our expectation that it should feel like Heaven.

As human beings, our first commandment is:Something needs to happen

Some stories, you use up. Others use you up.

A good story should make you laugh, and a moment later break your heart.

You digest and absorb your life by turning it into stories,' he says, 'the same way this theater seems to digest people.' With one hand, he points to a carpet stain, this dark stain sticky and growing mold, branched with arms and legs.Other events__he ones you can__ digest__hey poison you. Those worst parts of your life, those moments you can__ talk about, they rot you from the inside out. Until you__e Cassandra__ wet shadow on the ground. Sunk in your own yellow protein mud.But the stories that you can digest, that you can tell__ou can take control of those past moments. You can shape them, craft them. Master them. And use them to your own good. Those are stories as important as food. Those are stories you can use to make people laugh or cry or sick. Or scared. To make people feel the way you felt. To help exhaust that past moment for them and for you. Until that moment is dead.Consumed. Digested. Absorbed.

You can__ fool people into loving you.

With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.

Disaster is a natural part of my evolution toward tragedy and dissolution.

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

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

Ok. You fuck me, then snub me. You love me, you hate me. You show me a sensitive side, then you turn into a total asshole. Is this a pretty accurate description of our relationship.

Anybody's true nature is bullshit. There is no human soul. Emotion is bullshit. Love is bullshit.

You only ask people about themselves so you can tell them about yourself.

The only reason why we ask other people how their weekend was is so we can tell them about our own weekend.

The idea that I can't share my problems with other people makes me not give a shit about their problems.

Most times, it's just a lot easier not to let the world know what's wrong.