Bill Konigsberg Quotes
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As I opened the car door and stepped back into the chilly night, I was thinking that maybe the key to life is to have goldfish memories. So you can’t remember the time a friend hurt you. So you can give second and third and even fourth chances. To yourself too. Because sometimes it takes multiple.
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And perhaps the best answer is not to tolerate differences, not even to accept them. But to celebrate them. Maybe then those who are different would feel more loved, and less, well, tolerated.
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Like, did you know that LGBT kids are 8.4 times more likely than straight kids to attempt suicide? And 50 percent of LGBT kids are rejected by their parents? That between 20 and 40 percent of homeless teens say they’re gay, lesbian, or transgender, and that up to 50 percent of the guy teens have sold their bodies to support themselves?
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I wanted to watch his mouth as I made him laugh. I wanted to see his face light up with the spark of whatever silly joke there was, and I wanted to kiss him too, and really more than that, which was not a straight thing, I know, but it was also true.
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The idea that because things are worse somewhere else, you’re not allowed to have issues in your life. That’s what people who are trying to avoid having normal feelings say.
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I think some people are bi, definitely.
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Vulnerability is allowing people to see you exactly as you are, which is really hard, because when you’re vulnerable you can get hurt. Most people armor up with bravado or something, but those people are missing out, because without allowing yourself to be vulnerable, it’s tough to have, like, any emotional experience at all. Letting people in is really vulnerable, and most people—especially introverts—have trouble.
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And I felt so foreign, lying there, the wind howling outside our window. What was I doing here? Who was Rafe, really? Can you just put a part of yourself on hold? And if you do, does it cease to be true? Straight people have it so much easier. They don’t understand. They can’t. There’s no such thing as openly straight.
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I'm so tired of being a type... it's not just a black and white thing. Jock. Geek. Stoner. No one is considered just a human being, it seems like.
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I turned to Rafe and swam (and sunk) in his hazel eyes.
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I’m just me, and me is confusing.
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A thought came to me. What do I think about the date with Rafe? Here I am thinking about what everyone else would think, and I haven’t taken even a second to have my own reaction. Weird.
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I’d never been part of a group like that, so it was interesting, like a National Geographic special on wolves that I might watch with my dad. And I was part of the pack.
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Anyway, my whole thing is, whatever path I'm on, I'm on. I'm not going to avoid it because it's harder for the world, or even harder for me. I'm like, I gotta be me, you know?
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And I think, What’s the opposite of suffocation?
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Man, I could get used to this thing where I don’t think I’m a total piece of shit all the time.
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That never even occurred to me, that he had feelings.
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That was a level of commitment I’d never be able to understand, and I wished there was something out there I felt so strongly about I’d willingly die for it.
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Mom always says all sorts of shit goes down in the world, and it’s up to me to decide how to take it. The one way you’re sure to be unhappy is to frown your way through life, she says, and she’s right. Always look for the bright, vibrant color through the darkness. It’s always there, but sometimes hard to see.
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Guilt is about something you do. Shame is about who you are.
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Lean forward, and head on down the mountain.
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I don't think about relatability (when writing), I think about the heart of the character.
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Wow. Did I just write that? I didn't want who I am to come between us? How could I not have seen that?
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Just smile, Max. The paint cannot be stronger than a smile. But it is.