Adam Levine Quotes

The point was to learn what it was we feared more: being misunderstood or being betrayed.

Why do we weep once we know that everything will be alright? We weep because the only way everything could ever be alright is in fiction. We weep because what we've seen can't be true, no matter how badly we wish it were. We weep at the truth.

It is dangerous to exist in the world. To exist is to be threatened. We must live with threats.

Books are truer than movies.

If I'd thought she was uninterested, I never would have worried so much - the prospect of screwing something up is much more daunting than that of screwing nothing up. I definitely thought there was something there, and so there was something to lose, you see.

You only taste your own dignity right before you puke it up.

Easy as a child breathes a wish at a dandelion...is exactly how hard it would be for me to tear your limbs from their sockets.

Regarding vengeance and arch-enemies, one must not only be timely but prideful, and pride exacts propriety.

Without pain, there is no call for anger, much less rampaging.

Nothing last forever, but be honest babe, it hurts but it may be the only way.

...I might mention my belief that girls who like Woody Allen movies are nicer girls than girls who don't...

Go ahead and flunk me for begging the question, then go ahead and fuck yourself for asking it.

..it is good to do justice because God will kill you and your family whether you do justice or not.

All the word's indeed a page and we must loudly tear it.

You fucked up,' he said. 'Know that you're someone who fucked up. But know that doesn't make you a fuckup. The difference is a matter of repetition

Since bad timing could mean almost anything, it was a certain kind of truth. A low kind.

Were there always to be more damage, damage would be an aspect of perfection. We would all be angels, one-legged and faceless, seething with endless, hopeless praise. Bless Adonai for making us better than angels. Blessed is Adonai for making us human.

Like the Founders, the Conservative also recognizes in society a harmony of interests, as Adam Smith put it, and rules of cooperation that have developed through generations of human experience and collective reasoning that promote the betterment of the individual and society. This is characterized as ordered liberty, the social contract, or the civil society.

If you know your mom is a great killer, and you think of your mom as a great killer, and you know she would kill for you, not just metaphorically, but really end lives for you, without hesitation, you don't want to make her sad and worried because how can you repay her for all the things she's willing to do? You can't.

Underdog stories are easy to tell. It is best to be suspicious of underdog stories.

Let us be as the Cage has never been able to make us. Let us now all at once face forward in our boxes, still and silent as nightmares. We did.

The goodness of our intentions was in direct correlation to the heights from which we condescended to each other.

We can't just have everything without complications, you and I. There'd be no story without complications. With nothing to overcome, we'd die unstoried deaths.

Gurion would lament: What is the good of trying to do justice if God will kill me and my family whether or not I do justice?

He described the experience as being 'a little bit less fun, perhaps, than chain-smoking for ninety minutes while handcuffed to a dowager with asthma who used to teach Health and smells incontinent.

Reasonable of you, John. Reasonable of you, Dick. No two Israelites had ever pattered so goyischely.

Some men so needfully require complication, they find themselves defending their enemies.

Math came easily to him like girls to Adam Levine.

You can render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's, but if you don't keep from Caesar that which is yours, Caesar will take some, and than take some more, and if you don't put a stop to it, though you won't lose everything - you can't lose everything; there's things he can't take, at least one or two - a time will soon come when you'll think you've lost everything, when you'll think all is Caesar's, and by then you'll be too weak to take what's yours back, too tired to remember what was yours to begin with, and you'll end up, perversely, scheming for his leavings and, even more perversely, grateful when you get them.

Don't you feel as though you could love everything starting tomorrow, and everything could love you, if only you took an action to set into motion the coming of our new tomorrow and its tomorrow and that one's tomorrow? Shotgun loaded hand on the pump and no matter who you damage you're still a false prophet, but we drink chocolate milk and then we get muscles and smash down the droves with fists like hammers and then we pump the fists in the air for victory. I be the prophet of the doom that is you. You are the mess in messiah.

I feel like a millionaire on the back of an armored jet-ski my samurai girlfriend who loves me is charging at a cartel speedboat to win a game of chicken. Isn’t this the day’s best part? You don’t even have to remember to enjoy it. It enjoys you into itself.

Being humiliated only makes it easier to restrain you. And being restrained makes it possible to torture you, for the unrestrained cannot be tortured; the unrestrained can only be fought. So to be restrained is to be unable to fight, and to be humiliated is to be readied for torture. To know you have been readied for torture is to await torture. And to await torture is, itself, torture.

The fly was on my desk, his hose in the candy dust. I cupped my hand and covered him, then brushed him past the edge to see where he’d go. He returned to the dust, as if I hadn’t just demonstrated that I could kill him, as if I hadn’t just shown him right there in the dust.

Nonetheless, he is a boy. Despite his talents, a boy. And a boy is more idealistic than a man, and high ideals in the hands of children can be as dangerous as weapons. He thought he was in the right, and because he thought he was in the right, he thought there would be an exception. That's that.

To win their battles, these kinds of underdogs rely on their own and one another's ability to absorb violence. They find their might in their nature. They believe victory is assured by their nature, and as long as they act in accordance with their nature, they will claim it. Because they are able to fight, they must fight.

..and if you're reckless enough to back talk me, you're reckless enough to think you understand girls like June Watermark, and you don't understand her because she's crazy and crazy people-they're misunderstood. It's why they are called crazy. And you probably think you're in love with her-it's what Boystar told me you said in the Office, and that's a fine thing to say to a girl, but if you think you mean it, it's a different story. Because what's love without understanding Gurion? A fucken lie it is.

And that is why, when he finally did come across the street, I lit my cigarette with my lighter - not to make him feel like a fool who had fallen for a trick, but rather because he had said, 'you had better luck with matches,' when in fact I had not. It was not the matches that brought him across the street. It was the matches that kept him on the bench.

It's much more interesting to embrace who you really are rather than waste energy pretending to be someone else.

Ashamed is just grateful waiting to happen. You only taste your dignity right before you puke it up.

Maholtz asked me, “Why do you hate me?” I said, Everyone hates you. “I know,” he said. “I know that,” he said, “but they hate me cause I scared them or had what they wanted. You weren’t ever scarend of me. You never wanted what I had. Except for the sap. And then you took it, and now I don’t have it, so why do you hate me?” Maybe it’s your accent. “I’m from Pinttsburgh,” he said. Maybe you shouldn’t be. “I can’t help where I’m from.” We turned at Main Hall. Feld was talking to Forrest Kenilworth and Cody. The chair sat dripping in front of the door. So maybe it’s your face. The way you look at girls like you’re scheming to corner them. “I was borng this way, though. I can’t help how my face loonks.” So maybe it’s all the banced thing that you say. “They just come out of me. I’m hated, I feel it. I say those things without thinking, from hurnt. I can’t help that either. It’s not my faulnt.” I guess, then, I hate you for being so helpless.

The further south the throng went, the more reasons it discovered. Vendettas once sworn for half-forgotten offenses were remembered and invented with each passing blow. Everyone felt like a conduit of justice.

We are not taught to abide injustice through our faith; we are not taught to wait for Adonai to reach a hand down and save us. We are taught to faithfully destroy injustice; we are taught that to do so will force His hand.

While I did that, my own eyes got wet, not fakely, and I blinked the wetness away because it was not my privilege to be sad. Leonard Brodsky was the one who was hurt, and I was the one who’d hurt him, and it didn’t matter that I hadn’t wanted to hurt him or that I didn’t know how I’d hurt him. It didn’t matter that I knew not what I did to him. It didn’t need a name to be wrong. It didn’t need reasons I could understand. Verbosity is like the iniquity of idolatry.

And your parents, believe me—I don’t care what kind of relationship you’ve got with them—they’ll take you up on that offer. You share that sandwich with them—are you hearing me?—you share that glory sandwich with them and they’ll love you forever.

Most people, Gurion, most people do not violate boundaries, do not defy governance, and most of them come out intact, whereas very few of those who act lawlessly do. And that is why school is so much about following rules. You are here, above all else, to learn to live lawfully for the rest of your life. You are here to learn how to exist in cages without acting as if they are cages, to live like mensches despite being locked in cages. You are here to learn to survive in the world. That is the most basic purpose of our educational system, and it is a high purpose.

And Desormie dragged the back of his hand back and forth across his mouth twice. And Brodsky coughed fakely to mask his laughter. And there was no more paste in the mouth-corners of Desormie. And Brodsky would not have to stare at paste while they talked in his office. That was nice of me. I went to the gym.

The sliding doors opened, and a man entered the baggage area. A tall, dark-haired man with incredibly broad shoulders, a cowboy hat and a gaze so penetrating Phoebe knew he could probably tell what color her panties were. He moved with the kind of stride and purpose of someone who was never indecisive, confused or anything other than in charge. He was gorgeous. Adam Levine gorgeous. Of course. Any small shred of confidence she might have cultivated from her self-help books went belly-up like a zapped bug. She tried to brush off the last of the peanut dust from the front of her yellow T-shirt and wished for the millionth time in her life that she was tall, blonde, blue-eyed and stunning. Actually, right now she would take any one of the four.

...I know there are a number of things you know, probably too many things you know--too many, I say, not because any kind of knowledge has the capacity to be bad in itself, but rather because certain kinds of knowledge, particularly those kinds we often describe as arcane, can, by way of their very arcanity, serve to obscure the knowledge-bearer's understanding of the mundane.

Matt Levine, a Bloomberg columnist who writes a detailed and witty daily email dissected by Wall Street bankers, had been on vacation when the prospectus went live. The following Monday morning, he wrote in his email that the “We” trademark news was “the news item that caused me to absolutely lose my mind—the item that, if I were a slightly more dedicated financial columnist, would have had me on the next helicopter back to the office.

They seem nice.” Zane raised his eyebrows. “Sure. Skinny, starving kids. I can hardly wait for the rest of the folks to turn up. Maybe we’ll have a rock star next. Or some business executive who wants to bring his laptop along so he can work while riding.” She wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she ignored his comments. “Thanks for letting the kids go get something to eat.” His gaze narrowed. “What has Maya told you about me?” The only thing she could think of was her friend’s claim that Zane looked like Adam Levine. “Ah, what do you mean?” “You’re surprised that I wouldn’t want kids to starve. I figured she’d claimed I was a jerk, but it sounds like she’s also telling you that I’m mean to children.” “No, nothing like that.” She took a step back. “Maya thinks you’re a little, you know, uptight maybe.” His expression hardened, and she wanted to suck back the words. “But not in a bad way.” “Right.

Hel-lo, gorgeous.” Phoebe looked around as she stepped out of Zane’s truck. Standing next to the passenger door was a tall teenager with bright, inquisitive eyes and a welcoming smile. He looked enough like Adam Levine to make it easy for her to guess his identity. “You must be Chase,” she said. “In the flesh. And you’re Phoebe.” He looked her over from head to toe, then sighed. “Maya said a lot of great things about you, but she never mentioned you were a goddess.” The outrageous compliment made Phoebe laugh. “Hardly,” she protested, knowing that with her brown hair, brown eyes and unspectacular features she was little more than average. “My heart is pounding a mile a minute,” Chase said, moving closer. “Want to feel?” The driver’s side door slammed shut. “Don’t you have chores?” Zane growled. Chase took a step back, and his smile cranked down about 50 percent. “All done. Even the extra ones you gave me. I got started early so I could be finished to welcome Phoebe.

Yet this wasn’t like sports, let alone sports movies. The roles weren’t fixed, nor the meaning of the scaffolding. It didn’t have to be this way. They might have, for instance, all felt stronger. They might have felt stronger and come together. They might have decided that, rather than now, as they’d been mistaken before: that if their enemies cheered the same damage as they, then they weren’t their enemies after all. They might have concluded their interests were mutual, that some other force, earlier—some other enemy—had confused and divided them, and that all those who cheered were thus allies unmasked. Instead they felt bitter, tricked by each other, last-strawed underdogs, suckers on the mend. Their enmity swelled and they fought even harder.

I liked it when things went together like that. Not just timing things like the chop/ flick/ knock-stopping, but space things, too. Like all the man-made products that fit into other man-made products that were not made by the same men or for the same reasons. Like how the sucking wand of my parents’ vacuum held seven D batteries stacked nub to divot, and my Artgum eraser, before I’d worn it down, sat flush in any slot of the ice-cube tray, and the ice-cube tray sat flush on the rack in the toaster oven, the oven itself between the wall and the sink-edge. I liked how the rubber stopper in the laundry-room washtub was good for corking certain Erlenmeyer flasks and that 5 mg. Ritalins could be stored in the screw-hollows on the handles of umbrellas. (page 29-30)

I liked it when things went together like that. Not just timing things like the chop/ flick/ knock-stopping, but space things, too. Like all the man-made products that fit into other man-made products that were not made by the same men or for the same reasons. Like how the sucking wand of my parents’ vacuum held seven D batteries stacked nub to divot, and my Artgum eraser, before I’d worn it down, sat flush in any slot of the ice-cube tray, and the ice-cube tray sat flush on the rack in the toaster oven, the oven itself between the wall and the sink-edge. I liked how the rubber stopper in the laundry-room washtub was good for corking certain Erlenmeyer flasks and that 5 mg. Ritalins could be stored in the screw-hollows on the handles of umbrellas. The Instructions (pp. 29-30)

According to management professors Daniel Levin, Jorge Walter, and Keith Murnighan, “adults accumulate thousands of relationships over their lifetimes, but, prior to the Internet, they actively maintained no more than 100 or 200 at any given time.

I turned on the radio and scrolled through the stations until I found a new song by Maroon Five that I really liked. Susan reached over, turned it up louder, and began singing with Adam Levine. “He’s so hot,” she said, as the song ended. “I need to buy one of his CDs.” “Yeah, I love his voice.

The interference of foreigners upon any pretense whatever, in the dissensions of fellow citizens, must be as inevitably fatal to the liberties of the state, as the admission of strangers to arbitrate upon the domestic differences of man and wife is destructive to the happiness of a private family. . . . 22

Fuck them,” says Susan Falls. This is the first time, in her entire life, that she has employed an extra-cerebral profanity. Though in fantasy she has often used swear words, she has never spoken one. It feels good, and it occurs to Susan that, as stupid as most people sound when they use profanities, as stupid as she must have sounded just now, the feeling of power that just rushed through her, from inner labia to thyroglossal duct, the trace sensations leftover from just now, just now when she said the word fuck, make sounding stupid more than worthwhile. “Fuck them, then,” Carla Ribisi agrees, and it is the hottest motherfucking thing Susan has ever heard.

There’d be no story without complications. With nothing to overcome, we’d die unstoried deaths.

....Then he told me that that was like the Stranger. "That book?" "You wind a rubber band around your wrist so your hand falls asleep." "Oh," I said. "Does it do the trick?" Tom wished to God he knew, but there were never any rubberbands when he needed one.

With your Social Security number in the wind, whoever finds it—or, more likely, whoever buys it on one of the many black-market information exchanges on the deep web—holds the keys to every part of your life. What that means—plain and simple—is that you’re going to need an efficient way to keep one eye over your shoulder, all the time.

We expose our most sensitive personal information any time we Pick up a phone, respond to a text, click on a link, or carelessly provide personal information to someone we don’t know; Fail to properly secure computers or devices; Create easy-to-crack passwords; Discard, rather than shred, documents that contain PII; Respond to an email that directs us to call a number we can’t independently confirm, or complete an attachment that asks for our PII in an insecure environment; Save our user ID or password on a website or in an app as a shortcut for future logins; Use the same user ID or password throughout our financial, social networking, and email universes; Take [online] quizzes that subtly ask for information we’ve provided as the answers to security questions on various websites. Snap pictures with our smartphone or digital camera without disabling the geotagging function; Use our email address as a user name/ID, if we have the option to change it; Use PINS like 1234 or a birthday; Go twenty-four hours without reviewing our bank and credit card accounts to make absolutely sure that every transaction we see is familiar; Fail to enroll in free transactional monitoring programs offered by banks, credit unions, and credit card providers that notify us every time there is any activity in our accounts; Use a free Wi-Fi network [i.e. cafés or even airports] without confirming it is correctly identified and secure, to check email or access financial services websites that contain our sensitive data.

Desormie, ahead of me, hummed out a melody with lipfart percussion and aggressively dance-walked and thought it was strutting.

the law of parsimony.

he liked to eat fish patty sandwiches from McDonald’s, so his taste in food smells wasn’t reliable

Without constancy, we fear that the foundations of our individual worlds could crumble. Without constancy we face the unknown. So we repeat. We pattern. To maintain constancy.

Then again, you only live a few times, so why not be happy? Why be hard on yourself? Why be hard on yourself for who you had been in a previous life? Why be hard on yourself for who you had been before you’d understood the laws? Especially when you couldn’t—if you were being honest with yourself—you couldn’t really be sure you understood the laws now? Like maybe the laws weren’t even

Effectively communicate feelings and needs: Visiting the sister-in-law Because Tom’s job is so hectic, Rebecca barely gets to see him during the week, and she often feels very alone. On Saturdays, she usually visits her sister, who lives close by. Tom doesn’t typically join her for these visits; he likes to stay home and veg out on the couch. Generally, this is fine with her, but this Saturday, after a particularly long week at work, when Tom was even more absent than usual, she becomes very insistent that he come along. Tom, exhausted from his work week, is adamant about not wanting to go. Rebecca won’t take no for an answer and pushes the issue. He reacts by clamming up even more. Finally she tells him he’s being selfish, he ends up in front of the TV not talking, and she ends up going alone. Rebecca acts in a way that is very typical of people with an anxious attachment style. Because her husband’s being at work more than usual during the week has activated her attachment system, she feels a need to reconnect. What she needs most is to feel that Tom is available to her—that he cares and wants to be with her. However, instead of saying this directly and explaining what is bothering her, she uses protest behavior—accusing him of being selfish and insisting that he come to her sister’s. Tom is bewildered that Rebecca is suddenly behaving so irrationally—after all, they have an understanding that he doesn’t have to go to her sister’s. How different Tom’s reaction might be if Rebecca simply said, “I know you hate going to my sister’s, but it would mean the world to me if you could come this one time. I’ve hardly seen you all week and I don’t want to miss out on any more time together.” Effectively expressing your emotional needs is even better than the other person magically reading your mind. It means that you’re an active agent who can be heard, and it opens the door for a much richer emotional dialogue. Even if Tom still chose not to join Rebecca, if he understood how she felt, he could find another way to reassure her: “If you really want me to go, I will. But I also want to relax. How about we go out tonight—just the two of us? Would that make you feel better? You don’t really want me at your sister’s anyway, do you? I will get in the way of the two of you catching up.

One way of reading this genealogy is to see that we are all, as children of Adam, also children of God. We are therefore all animated by the Spirit of God.

This is what I learned while I walked Hattie home: Palmetto bugs are colossal roaches that thrive in hot climates and smell like Amaretto. They prefer the outdoors, but sometimes get lost and turn up in your house. If, as a five-year-old girl in Gainesville, Florida, you step into a steaming, oddly redolent shower, feel a light tap way up on your thigh, reflexively grab whatever just tapped you, find in your fist a roach with the heft of an operable pencil stub, fling it away, find a sharply bent leg affixed by its barbs to your middle finger’s meaty bottom phalange, repeatedly try to shake the leg off, repeatedly fail to shake the leg off, then sit in the tub and cry and cry, you’ll become a lyric poet, and your stomach will, from that day forward, repeatedly try to empty itself whenever you catch the scent of Amaretto. So, gum or no gum, no kiss good night. We dated nine months.

Seeing the Worm Instead of the Apple Another thought pattern that makes you keep your partner at a distance is “seeing the worm instead of the apple.” Carole had been with Bob for nine months and had been feeling increasingly unhappy. She felt Bob was the wrong guy for her, and gave a multitude of reasons: He wasn’t her intellectual equal, he lacked sophistication, he was too needy, and she didn’t like the way he dressed or interacted with people. Yet, at the same time, there was a tenderness about him that she’d never experienced with another man. He made her feel safe and accepted, he lavished gifts on her, and he had endless patience to deal with her silences, moods, and scorn. Still, Carole was adamant about her need to leave Bob. “It will never work,” she said time and again. Finally, she broke up with him. Months later she was surprised by just how difficult she was finding things without him. Lonely, depressed, and heartbroken, she mourned their lost relationship as the best she’d ever had. Carole’s experience is typical of people with an avoidant attachment style. They tend to see the glass half-empty instead of half-full when it comes to their partner. In fact, in one study, Mario Mikulincer, dean of the New School of Psychology at the Interdisciplinary Center in Israel and one of the leading researchers in the field of adult attachment, together with colleagues Victor Florian and Gilad Hirschberger, from the department of psychology at Bar-Ilan University in Israel, asked couples to recount their daily experiences in a diary. They found that people with an avoidant attachment style rated their partner less positively than did non-avoidants. What’s more, they found they did so even on days in which their accounts of their partners’ behavior indicated supportiveness, warmth, and caring. Dr. Mikulincer explains that this pattern of behavior is driven by avoidants’ generally dismissive attitude toward connectedness. When something occurs that contradicts this perspective—such as their spouse behaving in a genuinely caring and loving manner—they are prone to ignoring the behavior, or at least diminishing its value. When they were together, Carole used many deactivating strategies, tending to focus on Bob’s negative attributes. Although she was aware of her boyfriend’s strengths, she couldn’t keep her mind off what she perceived to be his countless flaws. Only after they broke up, and she no longer felt threatened by the high level of intimacy, did her defense strategies lift. She was then able to get in touch with the underlying feelings of attachment that were there all along and to accurately assess Bob’s pluses.

Owen got off the stool where he sat next to Adam at the bar. “You’ll soon meet the rest of our team. And when you do, you’ll know a whole lot more about your soon-to-be son-in-law. Takes a true man to be a leader they’d follow. If I’m ever lucky enough to have a daughter, a man like Kit’s the only one I’d let marry her.

Before you get to the point where you don’t know what hit you, you have to know that you’ve been hit; before knowing you’ve been hit, you have to know who you are. Some in the gym knew better than others. At one extreme was Boystar’s mom, who knew all along she was Boystar’s mom; she got shot in the son and she counterattacked.

…and you’re at school, busy fighting janitors and vegetables with padlocks…

Botha, eating hotlunch left-handed at his desk said, ‘Mind the cheese doodles, Maccabee.’… I said to Botha, The mind Maccabee, cheese doodles. I liked that joke. I used the exact same words that Botha had used but the words meant nothing the way I put them in order, and they sounded like they meant something since I said the sentences in the same way he'd said the originals, and with the same rhythm, and that demonstrated that English words were meaningless by themselves, that they were just lung- and mouth-sounds unless they were in the correct order, which was a paradox because the correctness of the order of a string of words depended on what the words meant, but if correct order was what gave words their meanings, then how could their meanings determine the correctness of the order? No one knew, and no one else thought the joke was funny, either.

Watch me like a vulture watches a fat mammal that is limping across the floor of a rocky canyon with its tongue out even though I’m your friend who you would never eat.

To pay a price in advance, to the unjust, a price to prevent advances against your physical integrity -- that is to compromise your dignity. And dignity compromised is no longer dignity.

Fear is contempt, whether the fearful know it or don't.

The million different answers to 'Why not let it go?' have just as many good ones among them as the million you can get from 'Why should I let it go?

Our plastic muskets, though powderless, will frontload, and our coup will not be bloodless, nor will the blood be lambly. It will stain the lion's den whose bars though invisible are verily there as well roll along, doo-da doo-da and a thousand lonely dirges.

If we act safe while it's safe for us to be dangerous, we're not taking advantage of being in love, and we could ruin it that way.

It was a relief to decide you didn't have to decide. It was a relief to have faith in immutability, a relief to lose faith in your ability to change something, even when it was something you'd wish you could change. It was a relief to be imposed on intractably. Acceptance, if not brave, was at least a relief. That was the trick of it.

The Evolution of Adam: What the Bible Does and Doesn’t Say About Human Origins. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2012. *Goldingay, John. Theological Diversity and the Authority of the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987. Gorman, Michael. Reading Paul. Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2008. Hawk, L. Daniel. Joshua in 3-D: A Commentary on Biblical Conquest and Manifest Destiny. Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2011. *Japhet, Sara. The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and Its Place in Biblical Thought. Ann Arbor: American Oriental Society, 2009. Jenkins, Philip. Laying Down the Sword: Why We Can’t Ignore the Bible’s Violent Verses. San Francisco: HarperOne, 2011. Johnson, Luke Timothy. The Real Jesus: The Misguided Quest for the Historical Jesus and the Truth of the Traditional Gospels. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1996. Knight, Douglas A., and Amy-Jill Levine, The Meaning of the Bible: What the Jewish Scriptures and Christian Old

Why do we weep once we know that everything will be alright? "We weep because the only way everything could ever be alright is in fiction. We weep because what we've seen can't be true, no matter how badly we wish it were. We weep at the truth.

You are the mess in messiah.