inexplicable - unable to be explained or accounted for
Splinter by Fallacy
32 Kent: he acts like the world is one big, shiny present he gets to unwrap every morning.
43 like a web [...] Everything's connected.
58 Most of the time one night [bends] into the next, and weeks blend into weeks, and months into other months. And sooner or later we all die.
81 [...] really so much worse than what anybody else does?
Is it really so much worse than what you do?
Like the after-death equivalent of Groundhog Day.
159 [reoccurring idea] You can see them every day–you can think you know them–and then you find out you hardly know them at all.
169 I close my eyes and feel myself letting go, like tipping over the edge of an abyss, darkness rising up to carry me away...
184 the whole world is a fraud, one bright, shiny scam. [...] I'm the one who's trapped. [...] I didn't do anything; I just followed along.
268 I started to think about time, and how it keeps moving and draining and flowing forever forward, seconds into minutes into days into years, all of it leading to the same place, a current running forever in one direction. And we're all going and swimming as fast as we can, helping it along.
My point is: maybe you can afford to wait. Maybe for you there's a tomorrow. Maybe for you there's one thousand tomorrow, or three thousand, or ten, so much time you can bathe in it, roll around in it, let it slide like coins through your figures.
So much time you can waste it.
But for some of us there's only today. And the truth is, you never really know.
269 Eat a fresh baked croissant from a bakery in Paris. Ride a horse all the way from Connecticut to California. Run around in the rain.
362 Everything looks so stupidly, happily normal: everyone just wasting time because they have so much of it to waste, minutes slipping by ...
369 From now on I’m going to do things right. I’m going to be a different person, a good person.
371 I feel like a curtain has dropped away and I’m seeing people for who they really are, different and sharp and unknowable.
394 …story I once heard about drowning: that when you fall into cold water it’s not that you drown right away but that the cold disorients you and makes you think that down is up and up is down, so you may be swimming, swimming, swimming for your life in the wrong direction, all the way toward the bottom until you sink. That’s how I feel, as though everything has been turned around.
421 … I just keep walking, one foot in front of the other, one, two, three, and I think about letting go—of the trees and the grass and sky and red-streaked clouds on the horizon—letting it all drop away from me like a veil. Clear. The gross sensations are replaced with a deeper touch, feeling, reality. This new reality is visceral.
427 …time is pouring away, hemorrhaging.
43 Sam becomes free only by realizing that sometimes meaning happens at the expense of our own happiness. She’s liberated only by giving he life worth. Before that, she’s in a version of purgatory, destined (literally) to repeat similar mindless patters that add up, essentially, to a sum of discrete moments, even good ones, that total nothing.
44 It’s true that Sam was, at the end of Before I Fall, talking about discrete moments and specific choices. But I see now that the choices themselves were almost a coda to the deeper point. Kissing Kent and saving Juliet: these were symbolic actions, representative of a deeper and more fundamental change, and a discovery of the thing that makes live not just bearable but beautiful.
A LETTER FROM LAUREN OLIVER
60 I still believe so strongly in its message: what really matters?
64 Her pettiness is replaced by a sense of what makes life meaningful; the blinders that keep her gaze selfishly focused on her own needs fall off, and allow a vision of the wilder world to creep in; her need for approval is replaced by a desire to love. I have always believed that people—no matter how lost, troubled, damaged, or simply stubborn—can change, can grow can become better and happier and more whole.
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