Victor Lodato Quotes

There is no imagination in the world. A person like me is basically alone. If I want to live in the same world as other people I have to make a special effort.

Didn't they realize that love was slow, shy, baffled half the time by pride? The

But not everything in your heart makes it to your mouth.

When you're head over heels about someone, it's a real painkiller. You almost wonder why doctors don't recommend it more.

Even those who loved you best were bound to find the flaws if they stared long enough.

Words weren't a solace, but they focused one's emotions into something more tangible; they were splinters that could actually be pulled from the heart and placed on a table, regarded.

The thing is, I can't love her, not in the real world. Because this would be degrading to me. To love someone who despises you, and she just might. You should see her eyes on me sometimes. Plus she's not even a mother anymore, she's just a planet with a face. Da at least has hands.

The problem is, at a certain point you can't stop thinking even if you want to. I swear, sometimes you just wish you could go back into the dark like a primitive person. But you cant, that's the problem with evolution. Once you have a little bit of knowledge, more of it just keeps coming at you like birds around a bagel. Sometimes when I learn things, I wish I hadn't learned them.

Not everything in your heart makes it to your mouth. A lot of it gets lost on the way.

If I could have one magical power it would be to get inside someone else's head, even just for a second, so that I could know what's important to other people, who they love and who they hate. You might treat certain people differently if you knew what was really in their heart.

Learning kindness late in life was a kind of torture. The pain often came from the past, from kindness withheld. The knife was particularly sharp when those who most deserved your kindness were long gone. And unless you wanted to die of sorrow, you had to give this unspent kindness to those you loved less.

A person's heart is a disgusting thing. You almost can't look at it.

When the people you love become animals it's awful. You're half afraid to even go near them.

Sometimes she worried that her love for Edgar was too strong, a covetous earthly love, a love against God, a love to reclaim lost things. But what love wasn't that? What love wasn't a reward to counter an old wrong? Anyway, it wasn't something she could control. How

I want to be awful. I want to do awful things and why not? Dull is dull is dull is my life. Like now, it's night, not yet time for bed but too late to be outside, and the two of them reading reading reading with their eyes moving like the lights inside a copy machine. When I was helping put the dishes in the washer tonight, I broke a plate. I said sorry Ma it slipped. But it didn't slip, that's how I am sometimes, and I want to be worse.

What a night, I'm telling you. Odious. Odious with cherries on top.

Still, when I read the story, I felt like I'd written half of it myself, and the author guy was responsible for the other half. And when the two halves came together it was like the end of amnesia and all the memories came flooding back. The best stories are like that. They're like spaceships. they take you somewhere far away and you think, oh, what a weird place. But then you think, wait, maybe I've been here before. Maybe I was even born here.

Religion has a way of making people into idiots is what my father says.

Birds are the lunatics of the animal world.