Moe Quotes

one of my favorites: Robby gave her a skeptical look. "Ye're an angel of death. No offense, but I would call that a wee bit of harm." "We're called Deliverers, actually. And we're not supposed to take someone before their time." "How does that work?" Gregori lifted his camera, focusing on her. "I mean do you just go down a line, saying, 'Eenie meenie mynie moe, sorry, dude you gotta go'?

Moe was a triple threat.” “He could sing, dance, and act?” She shook her head. “He could speak Armenian, saddle break a stallion, and pass for a female in drag.

I ain’t saying you can’t do it, Moe. Papa say you can do jus’ ’bout anything you set your mind to do, you work hard enough.

When my husband was dying, I said: Moe, how am I supposed to live without you? He told me: take the love you have for me and spread it around.

When cops are on the job they love lawyers like lions love hyenas, only minus the mutual respect.

Okay. There it is. I dressed up. As an owl. And fought crime. Perhaps you begin to see why I half expect this summary of my career to raise more laughs than poor cuckolded Moe Vernon with his foam teats and his Wagner could ever hoped to have done.

Ik denk: ik zal nooit vrij zijn, want ik kan niet vluchten van mezelf. Ik ben mezelf zo moe.

Eenie, meenie, minie, moe, catch a killer by the toe. If his lawyer’s Haller, let him go. Eenie, meenie, minie, moe. Hey bro.

In the village he [My friend Moe] said once, "Me and her is buddies, see? If her gate falls down, I go and fix it. If I git in a tight for money she helps me if she's got it, and if she ain't got it, she gits it for me. We stick together. You got to stick to the bridge that carries you across.

Depression is good at making you think it’s not even there and that you are the problem. Depression wants you to think you made a choice to be this way.

It was M-m-moe and Shorty,” I said. “Damn, I can’t stop shaking.” “Adrenaline burn-off,” Ranger said. “It’s normal.” “Why aren’t you sh-sh-shaking?” “I’m not normal.

Some people may decide to hate you for no reason simply because your confidence reminds them of their insecurities.

Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe.  May these shots reveal the Hoe.”  Taron immediately clanks the glasses and tips the tequila into his mouth.

Depression steals your ability to feel happy and proud even at the moments you should be happiest and proudest.

If your paramount concern in life is to make sure everyone likes and approves of you, you’re going to find yourself running in circles for the rest of your life.

voel me: moe. Maar moe is geen gevoel, zegt mijn vader. Hij heeft geen gelijk. Moe is een allesoverheersend rotgevoel.

Wat betekent dat, als een jongen zijn hand op je borst legt? Betekent het dat hij een geilneef is? Of was zijn hand gewoon moe?

We lopen verder door de regen en ik wou dat het altijd zo zou blijven. Dat we zouden doorstappen tot het einde van de wereld, door alle landen, zonder ooit moe te worden, zonder ooit nog te moeten slapen of iets anders te eten dan frietjes of naar school gaan of werken of ooit nog opstellen over eten te moeten schrijven. Alleen maar altijd doorgaan. Papa en ik.

If more people understand the reality of mental illness and get disabused of the Hollywood myths about it, the stigma about getting help will diminish, and then we’ll live in a healthier society.

Trauma occurs when something happens that’s too horrible for your brain to deal with, so you just store it away. Over time, the horrible thing, which is still there, starts coming out in a variety of ugly ways, causing mental problems that you don’t even associate with the trauma because it happened so long ago.

You think nuts don’t apply to the FBI? We get ’em all the time. A man in a Moe hairpiece applied in St. Louis last week. He had a bazooka, two rockets, and a bearskin shako in his golf bag.” “Did you hire him?

Why should the private pleasure of some one Become the public plague of many moe? Let sin, alone committed, light alone Upon his head that hath transgressed so; Let guiltless souls be freed from guilty woe: For one's offence why should so many fall, To plague a private sin in general?

It's not about having millions of friends—it's about having one friend who will stand by you when millions are against you.

If you have to ask for their attention, you're better off without it.

When people say "you've changed", what they actually mean is that they don't like the fact at all that you've stopped tolerating their bullshit.

What do you have to be stressed about?” the normies might have said, if I ever talked about these things with normal people. “You have a family, a house, a car, a good job. Just deal with it!” As if I could simply do that. As if I chose this. As if I looked at the options available to me and they were clearly labeled “Perseverance” and “Freaking the Fuck Out All the Time” and calmly said, “Mmm, yes, I select option B.

Sterven doe je niet ineens, maar af en toe een beetje, en alle beetjes die je stierf, 't is vreemd, maar die vergeet je. Het is je dikwijls zelfs ontgaan. Je zegt: ik ben wat moe, maar op een keer dan ben je aan je laatste beetje toe.

Reality is such pain. And for those of us who get fed up with that kind of reality, we simply choose to make a new one. We create little walls, and separate the trash from the stuff we like, and when that’s all done we keep the things we care about and kick the rest to the curb. You’d be amazed how well it works! A whole world made out of just moe, tsundere, and BL it’s the best discovery ever! If you ask me that really it the best way to separate reality, from fiction.

Depression lies,” said Jenny Lawson . “Because every single time, it says, ‘You’ll never come out of this again. You are absolutely worthless, your family is better off without you.’ And then I remind myself depression lies. Those things are lies.

Talking about depression is great and healthy, but that doesn’t mean it’s not exhausting.

Onze tijd is moe, krank en verveeld. […] Maar de mensch is nog niet sterk genoeg om zonder ideaal te leven.

What's yet in this That bears the name of life? Yet in this life Lie hid moe thousand deaths; yet death we fear, That makes these odds all even.

Boy did you miss the point. Go be an editor. -Moe Dylan

Falling in love should be natural, like the food at Moe’s. Baby, I am so hungry for you, even though I know queso costs extra.

When my husband was dying, I said: ‘Moe, how am I supposed to live without you?’ He told me: ‘Take the love you have for me and spread it around.

Only decades later would it dawn on me that normal people who never deal with depression have a sense of self-worth automatically. Just by being a person on the earth, they feel themselves worthy of respect and love and all that other cool stuff.

The reason negative emotions burn out so very slowly in us is because we keep igniting them with old, unpleasant memories.

Only fools are positive.

Depression does its damage and then it hides, covering its tracks, making you think that it is not an illness, that you’re just bad and weird.

Before enlightenment, cornflakes and coffee. After enlightenment, cornflakes and coffee.

Only by being useful or talented, and receiving external recognition, would I achieve personhood. I couldn’t imagine a world where I was a worthwhile person by dint of mere existence; I felt like I needed to earn it and prove it every day. Don’t worry, this feeling went away after only several decades.

Here’s the weird part: even when I was in the darkest and most despairing times of my depression, I still found depression funny. It was funny to me that the illness distorted my view of the real world like a funhouse mirror. It was funny that I could be immobilized by something that had no basis in a broken bone or bacteria or any tangible factor. And when other people, especially comedians and writers, shared their experiences with depression and those experiences were resonant with my own, I could laugh because we were all getting fooled together. I laughed in the same way an audience laughs at a particularly good trick pulled off by a magician. “We’ve all been deceived, but we don’t know how!

For saddies, encouragement is revelatory. Rather than making their resolve stronger, it will implant a resolve where none had been. “Because this person believes in me,” the saddie thinks, “and this person is not me, they may have a point.

A great White Bear waits outside. He has faithfully promised to make us all rich if he can but have our youngest daughter.

Sometimes your gallop just isn't what it used to be. And neither is your horsemanship.

Life is at best a gamble.

Depressed people have an urge to make good things into ugly messes to better match their state of mind.

there is nothing more intoxicating for a depressed person with an alcoholic parent in his past than being told you are loved and wanted.

I want to share all this in one place because if we talk, things get better, and more people we love might stick around so we can love them more.

Alan Shepard was the first and only interplanetary golfer,” Coke told his sister. “He was also the first and only interplanetary litterbug,” Moe said. “What he did was disgraceful.

Want voor arbeid had hij het allergrootste respect, ofschoon hij er persoonlijk wel gauw moe van werd.

When my husband was dying, I said 'Moe, how am I supposed to live without you?' He told me: 'Take the love you have for me and spread it around.

I know from experience Dev, purposely breaking a man and leaving him with nothing left to live for can be a very dangerous thing. -Moe

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe

Thomas More observed in 1533 that “of newe booke makers there are now moe then ynough.” Luckily for the book trade, More was beheaded a couple of years later.

When I was ten, I began to notice girls and had finally figured out that the bumps under sweaters weren’t hidden grapefruit. Now they were something to be admired, at least at a distance.

(the veteran catcher Moe Berg, a New Yorker who graduated from Princeton and Columbia Law school and was a frequent houseguest of Cobb’s in Augusta, would call him “an intellectual giant”).

There is a subtle yet profound difference between giving up and letting go' Just let go. Look at me, Moe seems to say. I can't speak, I can't move, but by my soul I know what this life is for.

I suspect that people with depression are fixated on the possibility of ambition being rewarded with happiness. Probably more than most people are. That’s because ambition about the future is a way of avoiding looking at a past that’s often pretty bleak or a future that is terrifying. This isn’t to say that getting a better job or a pile of money can’t be really great. They often are. Achievements or windfalls can often wipe out a particular cause of worry or dread, maybe even wipe out that worry forever. But then you get used to that new version of normal, the novelty wears off, and you’re left with the same brain you’ve always had, and that’s when depression emerges from dormancy.

Je hebt hetzelfde met boeken en vrouwen,’ zeg ik en het is waar, ik word weleens moe van mezelf, van dit soort halsstarrig moeten spreken over alles waarover het moeilijk spreken is en dat ik het niet kan en wil laten, ook al is het zeven uur in de ochtend en zitten we tegenover elkaar in een Amerikaans stadje en heb ik net de initialen van zijn naam met maple syrup op een pancake neergedrupt.

Oshino Meme, you say... it certainly sounds like a moe name." "Don't get your expectations too high. He's a thirty-plus year old man." "I see. But he must have been a moe character when he was young.

I didn’t know that depression isn’t a mood. It’s a set of conditions that cause a whole series of thoughts and behaviors to happen over a long period of time, often things that are wildly different from one another.

As Mrs. Moe explained how triangle ABC was congruent to triangle ABD, my mind kept wandering back to Mr. Bowman’s smile. And his arms. And his sharply creased dark gray cotton pants. Mr. Bowman was congruent to the best-looking guy on any late-night cable drama.

Schilderen leek ’m wel aardig, als je ’t goed kon. Hij kon niks, en daarom deed i maar niks. Je kon toch de dingen niet zoo weergeven als je ze onderging. Hij had maar één wensch: te versterven, onaandoenlijk te worden voor honger en slaap, voor kou en nat. Dat waren je groote vijanden. Eeuwig en altijd moest je weer eten en slapen, moest je weg van de kou, werd je nat en beroerd of moe. Zoo’n waterplas heeft ’t maar goed, die golft maar en weerspiegelt de wolken, is aldoor anders en blijft toch gelijk. Heeft nergens last van.

Babel werd nooit moe zijn verhalen te herschrijven. Hij zei dat er in een volzin ergens een soort hefboompje zat waarop je de hand kon leggen om er een heel kleine, maar precies goede draai mee te geven, niet te veel, niet te weinig, waarna alles op zijn plaats viel.

Much later, Groves seriously pursued the notion of kidnapping or assassinating Heisenberg; in 1944 he dispatched OSS agent Moe Berg to Switzerland, where the former baseball player stalked the German physicist in December 1944—but ultimately decided not to attempt an assassination.

Het is al met al niet zo dat het slecht met mij gaat. Het is eerder dat ik een hele tijd zo moe werd van alles, dat je het gewoon niet meer aan kunt horen, het ongeneeslijke geouwehoer van al die types die je met zo'n veel te eerlijk gezicht staan te vertellen wat het beste voor je is.

If your paramount concern in life is to make sure everyone likes and approves of you, I’m sorry to say you’re going to find yourself running in circles for the rest of your life.

break all the rules and you'll do just fine

serendipity,

If everyone read the poetry of Pablo Neruda we'd be a more peaceful, reflective world. Poetry can save lives.

His ears were so littered with studs, safety pins and dangling razor blades that if he were to stand between two strong magnets his face would peel off.

There’s only one secret in the game—and that’s hard work.

I didn’t want to die, but I wanted to take my brain out of my head for a while.

There is reason for optimism when one moves from ignorance to understanding but no guarantees.

It wasn’t you. You didn’t choose this. No one would ever choose this. It’s not your fault.

Immigants! I knew it was them! Even when it was the bears, I knew it was them.

be a mind beater-not a ball beater.

it makes sense when you think about the confluence of puberty hormones, stress from academics and the emergence of primitive appalling forms of dating, depression starts in your junior high.

bit is about how an intrusive suicidal ideation can show up when you least expect it, how true deep despair appears out of nowhere. That is terrifying because it feels like a killer on the loose.

But as the holy commandments forbid you to strike your father, abstain from doing so; but in the day of battle what hinders you from turning to your comrade and saying, ‘Touye papa moe, ma touye quena toue!’ (‘Kill my father, and I will kill yours!’) Vengeance then, my brethren, and liberty for all men! This cry has found an echo in every part of the island; it has roused Tobago and Cuba.

O’er rivers, through woods, With winding and weaves, Their school bus sailed on Through the new-fallen leaves. When out on the road There arose such a clatter, They threw down their windows To see what was the matter. When what with their wondering eyes Should they see, But a miniature farm And eight tiny turkey. And a little old man So lively and rugged, They knew in a moment It was Farmer Mack Nuggett. He was dressed all in denim From his head to his toe, With a pinch of polyester And a dash of Velcro. And then in a twinkling They heard in the straw The prancing and pawing Of each little claw. More rapid than chickens His cockerels they came. He whistled and shouted And called them by name: “Now Ollie, now Stanley, now Larry and Moe, On Wally, on Beaver, on Shemp and Groucho!

I wanted to watch a movie or listen to some music, so I did both. I put on a DVD of The Wizard of Oz and a CD of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning. IT TURNS OUT THAT WHEN YOU PLAY THEM BOTH TOGETHER, YOU GET ALL THE ANSWERS.

I’ve never let myself get scared off anything in my life and I wasn’t gonna start now. You back down once, there’s no telling when it’ll stop. You let yourself get scared and it never goes away. It fucks up your judgments.

That’s how my cousin came to don the hand-tailored suits and to arrogate to himself the glamorous responsibility for ushering to their tables big-name customers such as Jersey City’s crooked mayor, Frank Hague; New Jersey’s light-heavyweight champion, Gus Lesnevich; and racket tycoons like Cleveland’s Moe Dalitz, Boston’s King Solomon, L.A.’s Mickey Cohen, and even “the Brain” himself, Meyer Lansky, when they were in town for a gangland convention.

The body might be expending very little actual energy, but the mind is running a marathon combined with an obstacle course. Are you depressed and find yourself tired all the time? That may be because you do a decathlon every day.

Nobody. I taught myself. I was helping Moe get the guys their beers and stuff and I just started watching real close. I figured it out.” “Who the hell is Moe?” “You sure do cuss a lot,” Grunt remarked, then added, “It’s Misty. Sometimes I call her Moe.” And before Grizz could ask, he added, “Some of the new people call her Moe. Someone asked her once what her name was, and she made an M kind of sound, but she couldn’t say Misty. So I guess the guy thought she said Moe.

Try it! You might like it !! I wrote this letter to tell you that I am very, very sorry. When you are mad at me, your face looks like Daddy’s when he smelled that skunk that was hiding in the garage. And this made me very sad. Your face, not the smelly skunk. Are you still mad? Pleeze circle one: YES NO If you are still mad, pleeze accept my sorryness for taking your clock, calling you a sandwich stealer, playing games on your phone and drawing my very cute face on it, and trying to call Price Princess Sugar Plum. I did not reech her. But I did reech a guy named Moe by mistake, and he was not very polite at all. He said if I reech him again he will call the cops. That would be very bad becuz I do not think they serve chicken nuggets in jail. Then I would starve to death, which would not be a very fun time . Anyway, I made this sandwich just for you because I really care about you. I hope you love it! You are my very best friend! After Miss Penelope and Princess Sugar Plum.

...Ironically, three decades later President Barack Obama introduced a universal health insurance bill modeled closely after the Carter bill. Mondale´s former aide Richard Moe wrote that Obamacare ¨bore a striking resemblance to Carter´s proposal three decades before."The legislation pass Congress in 2009 with the support of Senator Kennedy, by then diagnosed with fatal brain cancer. In retrospect, Kennedy´s refusal to support Carter´s incremental, catastrophic national health insurance bill in 1978-79 condemned the country to wait three decades for meaningful healthcare reform. By any measure, this was a tragedy for the country. ¨The miss opportunity,¨ Eizenstat later wrote, ¨haunts me to this day.

Comedy, much of the time, is built on disorder. Comedy is intoxicating to a young mind in distress. You see these famous people pointing out the ridiculousness of a world that you’ve never been able to make sense of. Comedians offer the hope, the chance, however slim, that it’s not you that’s broken but the world. And they dress up in cool clothes! And hang out with various late-night hosts named Jimmy! And they make people laugh, and those people then love them. I can’t say for certain that depression leads people to a career in comedy, but it seems like the path is smoothly paved and well lit. Comedian Solomon Georgio came to the United States as a refugee from Ethiopia when he was three years old, and his family relied on comedy early on for entertainment and education. “We all loved comedy because that’s one of the few things that we comprehended when we didn’t speak the language,” he says. “Surprisingly, standup comedy, too, which, even though we didn’t know what was going on, you kind of see a rhythm and you know people are being entertained and laughing along. So we watched a lot of old television. Three Stooges, I Love Lucy, and, like, slapstick. We just immediately started watching and enjoying. So you can only imagine how disappointed I was when I met my first white person in real life and I was like, ‘Oh, you’re not like the Three Stooges. I can’t slap you and poke you in the eye. You guys aren’t doing any of that stuff out here. Okay.

And at the risk of sounding like Andy Rooney on Sixty Minutes, have you ever wondered why we say fiddle-faddle and not faddle- fiddle? Why is it ping-pong and pitter-patter rather than pong-ping and patter-pitter? Why dribs and drabs, rather than vice versa? Why can't a kitchen be span and spic? Whence riff-raff, mish-mash, flim-flam, chit-chat, tit for tat, knick-knack, zig-zag, sing-song, ding-dong, King Kong, criss-cross, shilly-shally, see-saw, hee-haw, flip-flop, hippity-hop, tick-tock, tic-tac-toe, eeny-meeny-miney-moe, bric-a-brac, clickety-clack, hickory-dickory-dock, kit and kaboodle, and bibbity-bobbity-boo? The answer is that the vowels for which the tongue is high and in the front always come before the vowels for which the tongue is low and in the back.

My Wish The talents which the Lord gave me, Not great or many are But what he gave I know I’ll save, By spreading them afar. And should great riches come to me, At some bright future hour, T’would be my call with man to share, My fortune and my power. I could not be a happy man, Nor have a peaceful soul, Should I retain each thing I gain, Within my small control. If fame a distant happy goal, Should ever be my fate, The golden crown would bear me down, Should I not share its weight. My wish is ever to divide, The good things that I gain, Could I not give, I would not live, I could not stand the pain. If I should have a king’s great power, I’d have to share my throne, I’d give you most, no idle boast, Of everything I own. Good health has blessed me all my life, So conscious of that gift, I’ll use that strength throughout life’s length, My sweetheart’s cares to lift. Mosey

In the Mountains, they cooked, too. Joe Godwin made liquor in Muscadine. Moe Shealey made it in Mineral Springs. Junior McMahan had a still in ragland. Fred and Alton Dryden made liquor in Tallapoosa, and Eulis Parker made it on Terrapin Creek. Wayne Glass knew their faces because he drove it, and made more money hauling liquor than he ever made at the cotton mill. He loaded the gallon cans into his car in the deep woods and dodged sheriffs and federal men to get it to men like Robert Kilgore, the bootlegger who sold whiskey from a house in Weaver, about ten minutes south of Jacksonville. "I could haul a hundred and fifty gallons in a Flathead Ford, at thirty-five dollars a load," he said. Wayne lost the end of one finger in the mill, but he was bulletproof when he was running liquor, and only did time once, for conspiracy. "They couldn't catch me haulin' liquor," he said, "so they got me for thinkin' about it.

There were icons of the Magdalen on the walls and paintings in the Western manner, all kitsch, trash. Mary M., Lucas thought, half hypnotized by the chanting in the room beside him; Mary Moe, Jane Doe, the girl from Migdal in Galilee turned hooker in the big city. The original whore with the heart of gold. Used to be a nice Jewish girl, and the next thing you know, she's fucking the buckos of the Tenth Legion Fratensis, fucking the pilgrims who'd made their sacrifice at the Temple and were ready to party, the odd priest and Levite on the sly. "Maybe she was smart and funny. Certainly always on the lookout for the right guy to take her out of the life. Like a lot of whores, she tended towards religion. So along comes Jesus Christ, Mr. Right with a Vengeance, Mr. All Right Now! Fixes on her his hot, crazy eyes and she's all, Anything, I'll do anything. I'll wash your feet with my hair. You don't even have to fuck me.

Section four people who don’t under stand homophones If ewe due naught no watt a homophone is, eye well X plane. Homophones R words, that win herd, sound the same, butt R naught spelt the same and mien differ rent things. Watt eye yam saying hear is that the English language ran out of words and had two reuse a phew. If some one is reading this too ewe rite now than it mite seam grate, butt just no that the purse son who reeds this is half-ing a reel pane full thyme. If ewe half know clew how two spell some thing and you’re teacher tells ewe two spell it buy “sounding it out,” ask hymn ab out home a phones, cause if the “sound ding it out” method was a hole lot moor ack U rate oar bet her than guess sing, wood home F owns X cyst? Ewe sea, hoe Moe phones own Lee X cyst sew you’re tea chair has a ree sun too mark down you’re pay purse. All so sew ewe sound like ewe half Ben drink king when ewe send text mess ages you sing voice two text. Two bee fare, English spell ling never maid much scents too beg in with.

There was another reason, too, one I didn't tell her. And this will make perfect sense to people who have dealt with depression and make absolutely no sense to people who never have: I didn't want to waste the doctor's time. I knew for a fact that I could not be helped, so let that appointment go to someone with solvable problems. Reader, the whole point of a doctor is to know more than you do, assess a problem, and then help you. Seeing people and trying to help them is the entirety of their job, and thus if you are a person, you are worthy of being seen. You are worthy of help. "I'm not going to a doctor. I mean, what if they put me on pills and I become a zombie or something? Plus, it's a copay." Our co-pay at the time was $10. I was not worth $10. "If you don't love yourself enough to go do this, do you at least love me and the kids?" Oof. "Yes.

Flowers. Lots of women say they don’t want them. But every woman is happy when they get them. Which is why I’ve arranged to have them delivered to Kate’s office, every hour on the hour. Seven dozen at a time. That’s one dozen for every day we were apart. Romantic, right? I thought so too. And although I know Kate’s favorite are white daisies, I specifically told the florist to avoid them. Instead, I’ve chosen exotics—bouquets with brightly colored petals and strange shapes. The kinds of flowers Kate has probably never seen in her life, from places she’s never been. Places I want to take her to. At first I kept the notes simple and generic. Take a look: Kate, I'm sorry. Drew Kate, Let me make it up to you. Drew Kate, I miss you. Please forgive me. Drew. But after a few hours I figured I needed to step it up a notch. Get more creative. What do you think? Kate, You're turning me into a stalker. Drew Kate, Go out with me on Saturday and I'll give you all of my clients. Every. Single. One. Drew Kate, If I throw myself in front of a bus, will you come visit me at the hospital? Drew PS - Try not to feel too guilty if I don't survive. Really. That last batch was delivered forty-five minutes ago. Now I’m just sitting at my desk, waiting. Waiting for what, you ask? You’ll see. Kate may be stubborn, but she’s not made of stone. My office door slams open, leaving a dent in the drywall. Here we go. “You are driving me crazy!” Her cheeks are flushed, her breathing’s fast, and she’s got murder in her eyes. Beautiful. I raise my brows hopefully. “Crazy? Like you want to rip my shirt open again?” “No. Crazy like the itch of a yeast infection that just won’t go away.” I flinch. Can’t help it. I mean—Christ. Kate steps toward my desk. “I am trying to work. I need to focus. And you’ve got Manny, Moe, and Jack playing every cheesy eighties song ever written outside my office door!” “Cheesy? Really? Huh. I so had you pegged for an eighties kind of girl.” Well, you live and learn.

Why did you come back to Salt Lake?" I knew the answer before I asked the question and he knew I knew, and it was like you could see the shadow of it hanging there between us. "I needed to see you," he finally said. "It's hard to explain." "You don't have to." "I tried telling my mom once what happed that day. Showed her the hole in the window screen and Moe and even after that she said it was complicated, that my dad's a complicated man and we all needed to try harder to understand him." His voice was shaking now. "And I thought, hey, maybe she's right. Maybe he was just playing around, you know. Maybe we didn't need to run." "We did," I whispered. "That's why I had to come, see?" He didn't move and I didn't move, but in a few seconds I heard him sniffling and he couldn't stop and I knew he was crying. "Cameron." I propped myself up, reached out my arm. "Come here." He got up and came to me, dragging his blanket behind him like a child. I scooted over in my bed to make room. "Come on." He positioned himself beside me-I stayed under the covers, he was on top of them, his head next to mine on the pillow. I stroked his hair and thought of the week he'd lived at our house, the way we slept shoulder to shoulder in our sleeping bags in the living room and I got another good memory. Jennifer, Cameron had said. You awake? His voice was coming from across the room. I sat up. Yeah. Look. He was standing by the living room window. The blinds were closed, but he had his hands on the cord, a big smile on his face. Ready? I nodded, starting to smile myself. One, two, three, Cameron said, then pulled the blind up, hand over hand on the cord like someone on TV. His smile got even bigger as he watched my face. Snow. Giant flakes of it falling in front of the window even though it was only September. Now, I fell asleep with my arm over Cameron's chest, thinking of how the flakes had been slow and white in the glow of the streetlights that lined the apartment walkways, and the smile on his face and on mine, like the snow was personal, a gift he'd given me himself.

Save thee, Timon. Tim. Now, thieves? All [Banditti]. Soldiers, not thieves. Tim. Both too, and women's sons. All [Banditti]. We are not thieves, but men that much do want. Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots; Within this mile break forth a hundred springs; The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips; The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush Lays her full mess before you. Want! why want? 1. Ban. We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, As beasts and birds and fishes. Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes; You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft In limited professions. Rascal thieves, Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape, Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; His antidotes are poison, and he slays Moe than you rob: take wealth and lives together; Do villany, do, since you protest to do't, Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery. The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement: each thing's a thief: The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power Have uncheque'd theft. Love not yourselves: away, Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats: All that you meet are thieves: to Athens go, Break open shops; nothing can you steal, But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen. 3. Ban. Has almost charmed me from my profession, by persuading me to it. 1. Ban. 'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises us; not to have us thrive in our mystery. 2 Ban. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade. 1 Ban. Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time so miserable but a man may be true. Exeunt Thieves [the Banditti]

PG: Who tends to have an interest in moé characters? HT: Clearly we are talking about those who are marginalized— Japanese men in particular, who seem to be getting weaker. After the Second World War, the value of men in Japan was determined by their productivity at work. The man who earned money was able to spend it, showing that he was a worthy mate. This then became the only way to be a man, the only way to be favorably appraised by women. I call this the era of love capitalism, meaning that dating and courtship were increasingly tied to consumption. Trendy dramas aired on television that promoted going to fancy restaurants or taking a ski vacation. So those men who failed or dropped out of the system looked for love elsewhere, for example in manga and anime. The situation got worse when the economy tanked in the 1990s, which made it harder to get that job and be that ideal man. There were a few men who had love and a lot of men who didn’t. I call this the love gap (ren’ai kakusa). Moé provides a low-cost, low-stress solution to this problem. It is love on our terms. Moé is a love revolution that challenges people’s commonsense notions about the world. You don’t need much capital to access moé, and you can do it in a way that suits you. Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying that everyone should give up on reality; I’m just pointing out that some of us find satisfaction with fictional characters. It’s not for everyone, but maybe more people would recognize this life choice if it wasn’t always belittled. Forcing people to live up to impossible ideals so that they can participate in so-called reality creates so-called losers, who in their despair might lash out at society. We don’t have to accept something just because people tell us that it is normal or right or better.