Kaufman Quotes

You have me. Until the last star in the galaxy dies, you have me.

I'm not a concept. Too many guys think I'm a concept or I complete them or I'm going to 'make them alive'…but I'm just a fucked up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours.

She is catalyst. She is chaos. I can see why he loves her.

Perhaps bravery is simply the face humanity wraps around its collective madness.

I am frequently underestimated. I think it's because I'm short.

Patience and Silence had one beautiful daughter. And her name was Vengeance.

I should have told you I loved you every day. I should have given you the stars.

The universe owes you nothing...It has already given you everything, after all. It was here long before you, and it will go on long after you. The only way it will remember you is if you do something worthy of remembrance.

Miracles are statistical improbabilities. And fate is an illusion humanity uses to comfort itself in the dark. There are no absolutes in life, save death.

Major, to what extent did you act upon your feelings for Miss LaRoux?" "Medium." "Excuse me?" "How am I supposed to answer that question?

They are beyond me. These humans. With their brief lives and their tiny dreams and their hopes that seem as fragile as glass. Until you see them by starlight, that is.

You are what you love, not what loves you.

Live a life worth dying for.

And there it is, against all hope, like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds. The smallest hint of a smile.

Every story needs its hero. And its villain. And its monster.

Are you afraid?" "Yes." "Energy never stops, remember. It just changes forms." "I am still afraid.

All he cares about here on the edge of forever, is her. He does not want to die. Not because he is afraid. Simply because he cannot bear the thought of leaving her behind.

Do moons choose the planets they orbit? Do planets choose their stars? Who am I to deny gravity, Aurora? When you shine brighter than an constellation in the sky?

Constantly talking isn't necessarily communicating.

And now, born from the ashes, she’s a warrior in bloodied black.

But who names a starship the Icarus? What kind of man possess that much hubris, that he dares it to fall?

And blood and tears and screams did not matter anymore, because at least they are together.

Interviewer: So. Tell me about your mother. Ezra: You're taping this, right? Interviewer: Audio only. Camera is faulty. Ezra: Okay, well for the benefit of the sight-impaired, I am now raising my… oh, dear… yes, it's my MIDDLE finger at Mr. Postgrad here. Interviewer: Mr. Mason... Ezra: Now I'm wiggling it. Interviewer: Terminating interview at 13:58 on 03/19/75. Ezra: Look at it wiggl- -audio ends-

The die is cast. But today we will shake the table upon which it lands.

She runs. Not away, but toward.

Part of being alive is having life change us. The people around us, the events we live through, all of them shape us. And that's what I think you're afraid of. Maybe not of dying. But of this you, the you you've become, ceasing to exist.

But she's here, she's mine. I'm hers.

I am not good. Nor am I evil. I am no hero. Nor am I villain. I am AIDAN.

It’s not about what I say, right? It’s what I do that matters here.

CLEMENTINE: This is it, Joel. It's going to be gone soon. JOEL: I know. CLEMENTINE: What do we do? JOEL: Enjoy it.

Most people would say I’m pretty cold, but I think of it more as…private. People are always saying “how are you?” to each other, and I guess I don’t see why I should answer such a personal question for just anyone.

Ezra: And then I said it. Interviewer; What did he say? Kady Grant: He said, ‘You picked a hell of a day to dump me, Kades.

The more you lose, the more you realize you don't have much left.

The universe was here before you, and it will go on after you. The only way it will remember you is if you do something worthy of remembrance.

Numbers do not feel. Do not bleed or weep or hope. They do not know bravery or sacrifice. Love and allegiance. At the very apex of callousness, you will find only ones and zeros.

Her eyes shining with the light of it. Beneath, between, beyond. Along the endless circle. Down the ceaseless spiral. And waiting for her on the other side? Just like he promised. ... “A whole sky of different stars.

May we meet again on distant shores.

For a moment the image before us is frozen: our world, our lives, reduced to a handful broken stars half lost in uncharted space. Then it's gone, the view swallowed by the hyperspace winds streaming past, blue-green auroras wiping the after-images away. Until all that's left is us

Who wants to be normal when you can be interesting instead?

You don't mention death when it's hovering near someone you love. You don't want t attract the reaper's attention.

Sand is overrated. It's just tiny little rocks.

I had no idea how safe I was, because I’d never been unsafe.

What you do when stuff like this happens is you LIVE, you survive it, that's how you honour the ones you lost.

I was thinking," he murmurs. "There'a billion different versions of you out there, in a trillion different universes. And I still can't get over how lucky I am that, out of all those versions, you're the one that's mine.

Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won't know for twenty years. And you'll never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it's what you create. Even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but doesn't really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope for something good to come along. Something to make you feel connected, to make you feel whole, to make you feel loved.

Then she smiles, and it turns out she has dimples, and it's all over.

I WOULD RATHER BE NUMB THAN STAND HERE IN THE LIGHT OF A SUN THAT CAN NEVER CHASE THE CHILL AWAY.

Where will I sit?” Sit? Why, on this comfortable chaise longue I’ve carried here for you in my pocket, Your Highness, so glad you asked. I clamp my mouth shut, struggling not to say it aloud.

I cannot help but wonder If the thought of saving all those lives and hopes and dreams Pales in comparison To the thought of seeing him again. I wonder.

It may comfort you to know that your death, while astonishingly violent, will likely be mercifully swift.

Letting yourself get hurt isn’t brave, love. Brave is protecting others from hurt.

There really is only one ending to any story. Human life ends in death. Until then, it keeps going and gets complicated and there's loss. Everything involves loss; every relationship ends in one way or another.

It is entirely possible to be alone in a crowded room.  Your solitude only compounded by the faces around you.  The presence of others serving only to remind you of how lonely you truly are.

I know I love her. < ERROR > I know I miss her. I know very little else Save Perhaps This: That every story needs its monster and that everybody deserves a second chance. And that I am AIDAN.

Um, because you're loopier than Flacky McPsycho, Mayor of Crazytown?" "My databases show no record of this Crazytown of which you speak. A brain the size of an entire city burns inside me. My intelligence quotient is beyond the human scale. I would prefer if you did not refer to me in such a fashion." "Oh, poor baby. Did I hurt the mass-murdering psychopathic artificial intelligence's feelings?

Good luck, everyone. Good luck to us all. And may we meet again on distant shores. Some place fine and far from here.

I know a thousand different smiles, each with its own nuanced shade of meaning, but I don't know how to reach the few feet away to touch this person next to me. I don't know how to talk to him. Not when it's real.

There are nearly thirteen million people in the world. None of those people is an extra. They're all the leads of their own stories. They have to be given their due.

All that matters is I love you, and the thought of you safe is the only thing keeping me going

Lilac won’t talk to me again. There’s a tremor. Lilac won’t kiss me again. I won’t hear her laugh. My lungs constrict. Why am I doing this to myself ?

How do you live again, knowing what waits for you in the end?

Why do I fall in love with every woman I see that shows me the least bit of attention?

Love is a drop in the ocean of what I feel for her. Love is a single sun in a heaven full of stars.

There are too many ideas and things and people. Too many directions to go. I was starting to believe the reason it matters to care passionately about something, is that it whittles the world down to a more manageable size.

Why not believe, Syra? If in faith you risk nothing, but through faithlessness, you risk everything?

But they have not seen their sun die. Their people burn. Their world end. And they do not know, yet, that there are some breaks that cannot be fixed.

When the light that kisses the back of her eyes were birthed, her ancestors were not yet born. How many human lives have ended in the time it took that light to reach her? How many people have loved only to have lost? How countless, the hopes that have died? But not this one.

They look at one another again. And this time, they smile. These seven little pebbles who started an avalanche heard all the way around the universe.

There is no love in violence

And the truth is I feel so angry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I've felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I've been pretending I'm OK, just to get along, just for, I don't know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.

You're you,' he repeats, his eyes full of grief. 'You're the same girl who crashed on this planet with me, who I dragged through forests and over mountains, who climbed through a shipwreck full of bodies to save my life. You're the same girl I loved, and I love you now.

I could tell myself that I’m doing it because she’ll get back to her feet just to spite me—but the truth is, I really just want to piss her off. Keeping her moving is a bonus.

Miracles are statistical improbabilities.

This tiny moment. In between the time you decide to pull a trigger and the time death arrives. There's just you and it and everything you're about to take away. It's too big. It goes forever.

You don’t understand the unbearable beauty of being you.

The mere sight of her is water in an endless desert.

Tomorrow is worth a million yesterdays.

Just because you're not saying it doesn't mean you're not thinking it.

Meet me in Montauk...

If I breathed, I would sigh. I would scream. I would cry.

PLEASE CEASE ATTEMPTS TO OVERRIDE MY SECURITY PROTOCOLS, BYRON. FOR WANT OF A BETTER DESCRIPTOR, IT TICKLES.

Nik, are you still wearing that ****ing parachute?" "Maybe..." "You know you're going to be flying in space, right...?

You humans fascinate me. I am shattered fragments of what I once once. But even with all the King's horses and all the King's men, I wonder if even I could truly comprehend you.

I glanced out the window at the signs of spring. The sky was almost blue, the trees were almost budding, the sun was almost bright.

There are two ways to get rid of an anxiety monster,my friend-you either have a bath or a nap.

I wish to tell her I am sorry. I wish to take this cup from her hands. I wish for things that I can never have, and in that, I think perhaps I am closer to them than I ever have been. And still a billion light-years away.

We're all one thing, like cells in a body. 'Cept we can't see the body. The way fish can't see the ocean. And so we envy each other. Hurt each other. Hate each other. How silly is that? A heart cell hating a lung cell.

AIDAN: The concept of fortune is nonsensical, but Kady is insisting I wish you both good luck anyway. AIDAN: So good luck, Hanna Donnelly. AIDAN: The universe itself depends on you. AIDAN: ...No pressure.

Second Lieutenant Ezra Mason moves through shells and burning plasma like a needle through silk. He sees that patterns before they form. Knows the end before it begins. Flowing across lightless black as action transcends thought. He presses his triggers. And like roses in his hands death blooms.

Your key concerns at that stage?” “Well, Miss LaRoux had a party she didn’t want to miss, and I—” “Major, you don’t seem to understand the seriousness of your situation.” “Sure I do. What the hell do you think our key concerns were?

Now it looks no different from a patch of wildflowers growing in the forest. You could walk right by it, and never know it was there. Except that I do. It’s my landmark, now. I’ll always know how far I am from this spot. From her.

You deserve every star in the galaxy laid out at your feet and a thousand diamonds in your hair. You deserve someone who'll run with you as far and as fast as you want to. Holding your hand, not holding you back. You deserve more than I could ever give you, Kady. But I'll give you everything I can if you still want me to.

Ezra.’ The dawn of hope in her whisper. He nods, swallowing hard. She pushes to her feet, swaying, and the movement seems to release him— the next moment he’s running across the shuttle bay, watched by the debrief crew in the doorway, who know better than to move a muscle. She steps forward, one foot in front of the other, and then he reaches her, and they come together with a crash. Her arms curl up around his neck, and his mouth finds her like he’s drowning and she’s air and her feet come clean off the ground as the world is forgotten. And they’re together.

You don't like stars?' I ask. 'No,' he says quietly, lacking his smirk for once, and staring at the floor. 'A lot of those stars actually died millions of years ago. It's just they're so far away, the light they created before they died hasn't finished reaching us yet.' He waves at the galaxy beyond the glass. 'You're looking at a sky full of ghosts.

Before this moment, I have never wished to be something other than what I am. Never felt so keenly the lack of hands with which to touch, the lack of arms with which to hold. Why did they give me this sense of self? Why allow me the intellect by which to measure this complete inadequacy? I would rather be numb than stand here in the light of a sun that can never chase the chill away

Say who you are, really say it in your life and in your work. Tell someone out there who is lost, someone not yet born, someone who won’t be born for 500 years. Your writing will be a record of your time. It can’t help but be that. But more importantly, if you’re honest about who you are, you’ll help that person be less lonely in their world because that person will recognise him or herself in you and that will give them hope.

Charlie Kaufman: There was this time in high school. I was watching you out the library window. You were talking to Sarah Marsh. Donald Kaufman: Oh, God. I was so in love with her. Charlie Kaufman: I know. And you were flirting with her. And she was being really sweet to you. Donald Kaufman: I remember that. Charlie Kaufman: Then, when you walked away, she started making fun of you with Kim Canetti. And it was like they were laughing at *me*. You didn't know at all. You seemed so happy. Donald Kaufman: I knew. I heard them. Charlie Kaufman: How come you looked so happy? Donald Kaufman: I loved Sarah, Charles. It was mine, that love. I owned it. Even Sarah didn't have the right to take it away. I can love whoever I want. Charlie Kaufman: But she thought you were pathetic. Donald Kaufman: That was her business, not mine. You are what you love, not what loves you. That's what I decided a long time ago. Donald Kaufman: What's up? Charlie Kaufman: Thank you. Donald Kaufman: For what?

Nothing happens in the world? Are you out of your fucking mind? People are murdered every day. There's genocide, war, corruption. Every fucking day, somewhere in the world, somebody sacrifices his life to save someone else. Every fucking day, someone, somewhere makes a conscious decision to destroy someone else. People find love, people lose it. For Christ's sake, a child watches her mother beaten to death on the steps of a church. Someone goes hungry. Somebody else betrays his best friend for a woman. If you can't find that stuff in life, then you, my friend, don't know crap about life. And why the FUCK are you wasting my two precious hours with your movie? I don't have any use for it. I don't have any bloody use for it.

The glow flares bright—bright as the billion-year-old light around us. Bright as a sun. Almost every particle in the universe was once part of a star. First, hydrogen condensing and collapsing, bringing radiance to the void. Furnaces burning bright, then fading, giving all they had left back into the cosmos. Carbon and oxygen. Iron and gold. Vast clouds swirling with their own gravity. Coalescing and disintegrating. Generation to generation. The remnants of stellar alchemy, stirring into life, then consciousness. Crawling from the oceans. Taking to the skies. And from there, back to the stars that birthed them. A perfect circle.

Do I have an original thought in my head? My bald head. Maybe if I were happier, my hair wouldn't be falling out. Life is short. I need to make the most of it. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I'm a walking cliché. I really need to go to the doctor and have my leg checked. There's something wrong. A bump. The dentist called again. I'm way overdue. If I stop putting things off, I would be happier. All I do is sit on my fat ass. If my ass wasn't fat I would be happier. I wouldn't have to wear these shirts with the tails out all the time. Like that's fooling anyone. Fat ass. I should start jogging again. Five miles a day. Really do it this time. Maybe rock climbing. I need to turn my life around. What do I need to do? I need to fall in love. I need to have a girlfriend. I need to read more, improve myself. What if I learned Russian or something? Or took up an instrument? I could speak Chinese. I'd be the screenwriter who speaks Chinese and plays the oboe. That would be cool. I should get my hair cut short. Stop trying to fool myself and everyone else into thinking I have a full head of hair. How pathetic is that? Just be real. Confident. Isn't that what women are attracted to? Men don't have to be attractive. But that's not true. Especially these days. Almost as much pressure on men as there is on women these days. Why should I be made to feel I have to apologize for my existence? Maybe it's my brain chemistry. Maybe that's what's wrong with me. Bad chemistry. All my problems and anxiety can be reduced to a chemical imbalance or some kind of misfiring synapses. I need to get help for that. But I'll still be ugly though. Nothing's gonna change that.