Turtles All The Way Down Davis Quotes

Reading someone's poetry is like seeing them naked" -Davis Pritchett

Stole this from a lizard for you - D

Davis was right : Everybody disappears eventually.

I would've told her that Davis and I never talked much, or even looked at each other, but it didn't matter, because we were looking at the same sky together, which is maybe more intimate that eye contact anyway. Anybody can look at you. It's quite rare to find someone who sees the same world you see.

Seeing your past - or a person from your - can for me at least be physically painful. I'm overwhelmed by a melancholic ache - and I want the past back, not matter the cost. It doesn't matter that it won't come back; that it never even actually existed as I remember it - I want it back. I want things to be like they were, or like I remember them having been: Whole. But she doesn't remind me of the past, for some reason, she feels present tense

That's what my dad is like-he really disappeared a long time ago, which is maybe why it didn't bother me much. I wish he were here, but I've wished that for a long time. Adults think they're wielding power, but really power is wielding them.

I looked over at him now. Everyone always celebrates the easy attractiveness of green or blue eyes, but there was a depth to Davis's brown eyes that you just don't get from ligther colors, and the way he looked at me made me feel like there was something worthwhile in the brown of my eyes, too.

Everyone always celebrates the easy attractiveness of green or blue eyes, but there was a depth to Davis’s brown eyes that you just don’t get from lighter colors, and the way he looked at me made me feel like there was something worthwhile in the brown of my eyes, too.

Star Wars is the American religion," Davis said at one point, and Mychal said, "I think religion is the American religion

My children are grown-ups., so you and Noah are my only little boys I have left.

Yeah, well, she's known me since I was a baby. And she cares about us. But she also gets paid to care about us, you know? And if she didn't... I mean, she'd have to find a different job.

We settled into a silence, and I felt the sky's bigness above me, the unimaginable vastness of it all–looking at Polaris and realizing the light I was seeing was 425 years old, and then looking at Jupiter, less than a light-hour from us. In the moonless darkness, we were just witnesses to light, and I felt a sliver of what must have driven Davis to astronomy. There was a kind of relief in having your own smallness laid bare before you, and I realized something Davis must have already known: Spirals grow infinitely small the farther you follow them inward, but they also grow infinitely large the farther you follow them out.

There was a kind of relief in having your own smallness laid bare before you, and I realized something Davis must have already known: Spirals grow infinitely small the farther you follow them inward, but they also grow infinitely large the farther you follow them out.

The way he talked about thoughts was the way I experienced them --- not as a choice but as a destiny. Not a catalog of my consciousness, but a refutation of it. When I was little, I used tell Mom about my invasives, and she would always say, "Just don't think about that stuff, Aza." But Davis got it. You can't choose. That's the problem.

The greatest weapon against stress is our ability to choose one thought over another.” —WILLIAM JAMES I don’t know what superpower William James enjoyed, but I can no more choose my thoughts than choose my name. The way he talked about thoughts was the way I experienced them—not as a choice but as a destiny. Not a catalog of my consciousness, but a refutation of it. When I was little, I used to tell Mom about my invasives, and she would always say, “Just don’t think about that stuff, Aza.” But Davis got it. You can’t choose. That’s the problem.

Davis and I never talked much, or even looked at each other, but it didn’t matter, because we were looking at the same sky together, which is maybe more intimate than eye contact anyway.

Davis and I have never talked much, or even looked at each other, but it didn't matter, because we were looking at the same sky together, which is maybe more intimate than eye contact anyways.

I would’ve told her that Davis and I never talked much, or even looked at each other, but it ‎didn’t matter, because we were looking at the same sky together, which is maybe more ‎intimate than eye contact anyway.‎

If I'd been the author, I would've stopped thinking about my microbiome. I would've told Daisy how much I liked her idea for Mychal's art project, and I would've told her that I did remember Davis Pickett, that I remembered being eleven and carrying a vague but constant fear. I would've told her that I remembered once at camp lying next to Davis on the edge of a dock, our legs dangling over, our backs against the rough-hewn planks of wood, staring together up at a cloudless summer sky. I wouldv'e told her that Davis and I never talked much, or even looked at each other, but it didn't mater, because we were looking at the same sky together, which is maybe more intimate than eye contact anyway. Anybody can look at you. It's quite rare to find someone who sees the same world you see.

Everyone always celebrates the easy attractiveness of green or blue eyes, but there was a ‎depth to Davis’s brown eyes that you just don’t get from lighter colors, and the way he looked ‎at me made me feel like there was something worthwhile in the brown of my eyes, too.‎

Davis and I never talked much, or even looked at each other, but it didn’t matter, because we were looking at the same sky together, which is maybe more intimate than eye contact anyway. Anybody can look at you. It’s quite rare to find someone who sees the same world you see.

Davis and I never talked much, or even looked at each other, but it didn't matter, because we were looking at the same sky together, which is maybe more intimate than eye contact anyway. Anybody can look at you. It's quite rare to find someone who sees the same world you see.

I reached down and squeezed his hand. "You are a good brother." He nodded. I could see in the gray light that he was crying a little. "Thanks", he said. "i kind of just want to stay here in this particular instant for a really long time." "Yeah", I said. We settled into silence and I felt the sky's bigness above me, the unimaginable vastness of it all - looking at Polaris and realizing the light I was seeing was 425 years old, and then looking at Jupiter, less than a light-hour from us. In the moonless darkness, we were just witnesses to light, and I felt a sliver of what must have driven Davis to astronomy. There was a kind of relief in having your own smallness laid bare before you, and I realized something Davis must have already known: Spirals grow infinitely small the farther you follow them inward, but they also grow infinitely large the farther you follow them out. And I knew I would remember that feeling, underneath the split-up sky, back before the machinery of fate ground us into one thing or another, back when we could still be everything. I thought, lying there, that I might love him for the rest of my life. We did love each other - maybe we never said it, and maybe love was never something we were in, but it was something I felt. I loved him, and I thought, maybe I will never see him again and I will be stuck missing him, and isn't that so terrible.

So part of you wanted to be kissing him and another part of you felt the intense worry that comes with being intimate with someone." "Right, but I wasn't worried about intimacy. I was worried about microbial exchange." "Well, your worry expressed itself as being about microbial exchange." I just groaned at the therapy bullshit. She asked me if I'd taken my Ativan. I told her I hadn't brought it to Davis's house. And then she asked me if I was taking the Lexapro every day, and I was, like, not every day. The conversation devolved into her telling me that medication only works if you take it, and that I had to treat my health problem with consistency and care, and me trying to explain that there is something intensely weird and upsetting about the notion that you can only become yourself by ingesting a medication that changes your self.

I missed Davis, of course. The first few days, I kept checking my phone, waiting for him to reply, but slowly I understood that we were going to be part of each other’s past. I still missed him, though. I missed my dad, too. And Harold. I missed everybody. To be alive is to be missing.

Star Wars is the American religion," Davis said at one point, and Mychal said, "I think religion is the American religion," and even though I laughed with them, it felt like I was watching the whole thing from somewhere else, like I was watching a movie about my life instead of living it.

I looked over at him now. Everyone always celebrates the easy attractiveness of green or blue eyes, but there was a depth to Davis's brown eyes that you just don't get from lighter colors, and the way he looked at me made me feel like there was something worthwhile in the brown of my eyes, too.

I would've told her that Davis and I never talked much, or even looked at each other, but it didn't matter, because we were looking at the same sky together, which is maybe more intimate than eye contact anyway. Anyone can look at you. It's quite rare to find someone who sees the same world you see.

I would've told her that Davis and I never talked much, or each looked at each other, but it didn't matter, because we were looking at the same sky together, which is maybe more intimate than eye contact anyway. Anybody can look at you. It's quite rare to find someone who sees the same world you see.

I would’ve told her that Davis and I never talked much, or even looked at each other, but it didn’t matter, because we were looking at the same sky together, which is maybe more intimate than eye contact anyway. Anybody can look at you. It’s quite rare to find someone who sees the same world you see.

Ich hätte ihr gesagt, dass Davis und ich nie viel geredet oder uns angesehen hatten, aber das war egal, weil wir zusammen denselben Himmel sahen, was viel intimer ist, als einander in die Augen zu sehen. In die Augen kann man jedem sehen. Aber jemanden zu finden, der dieselbe Welt sieht, ist ziemlich selten.

In the moonless darkness, we were just witnesses to light, and I felt a sliver of what must have driven Davis to astronomy. There was a kind of relief in having your own smallness laid bare before you, and I realized something Davis must have already known: Spirals grow infinitely small the farther you follow them inward, but they also grow infinitely large the farther you follow them out.

I reached down and squeezed his hand. "You are a good brother." He nodded. I could see in the gray light that he was crying a little. "Thanks", he said. "i kind of just want to stay here in this particular instant for a really long time." "Yeah", I said. We settled into silence and I felt the sky's bigness above me, the unimaginable vastness of it all - looking at Polaris and realizing the light I was seeing was 425 years old, and then looking at Jupiter, less than a light-hour from us. In the moonless darkness, we were just witnesses to light, and I felt a sliver of what must have driven Davis to astronomy. There was a kind of relief in having your own smallness laid bare before you, and I realized something Davis must have already known: Spirals grow infinitely small the farther you follow them inward, but they also grow infinitely large the farther you follow them out. And I knew I would remember that feeling, underneath the split-up sky, back before the machinery of fate ground us into one thing or another, back when we could still be everything. I thought, lying there, that I might love him for the rest of my life. We did love each other - maybe we never said it, and maybe love was never something we were in, but it was something I felt. I loved him, and I thought, maybe I will never see him again and I will be stuck missing him, and isn't that so terrible. But it turn out not to be terrible, because i know the secret that the me lying beneath that sky could not imagine: I know that girl would go on, that she would grow up, have children and love them, that despite loving them she would get too sick to care for them, be hospitalized, get better, and then get sick again. I know a shrink would say, write it down, how you got here. So you would, and in writing it down you realize, love is not a tragedy or a failure, but a gift. You remember your first love because they show you, prove to you, that you can love and be loved, that nothing in this world is deserved except for love, that love is both how you become a person, and why. - But underneath those skies, your hand - no, my hand, no - our hand - in his, you don't know yet. You don't know that the spiral painting is in that box on your dining room table, with a Post-it note stuck to the back of the frame. You don't know that you will make a life, see it unbuilt and rebuilt.

Sviđalo mi se ljubiti se s toliko odjeće na sebi. Dok smo se ljubili, naše mu je disanje zamaglilo naočale. Pokušao ih je skinuti, a ja sam mu ih gurnula na vrh nosa pa smo se zajedno smijali. Kad mi je počeo ljubiti vrat, kroz glavu mi je prošla misao kako je njegov jezik bio u mojim ustima. Rekla sam samoj sebi da trebam biti u ovome trenutku, da si dopustim osjetiti njegovu toplinu na koži, ali njegov je jezik bio na mome vratu, mokar i živ i prepun mikroba, a njegova se ruka šuljala ispod moje jakne, dok su njegovi hladni prsti klizili po mojoj goloj koži. U redu je, i ti si u redu... samo ga poljubi. Moraš nešto provjeriti. Sve je u redu, samo budi jebeno normalna. Provjeri ostaju li mikrobi u tebi. Milijarda ljudi se ljubi i ne umire. Samo provjeri hoće li te mikrobi trajno nastaniti. Daj molim te, prekini s tim. Možda ima kampilo-bakter, možda je asimptomatičan nositelj E. coli i onda ćeš trebati antibiotike i dobit ćeš C. diff i bum, mrtva si za četiri dana. Molim te, jebeno prestani, samo ga poljubi. SAMO PROVJERI DA BUDEŠ SIGURNA. Odmaknula sam se. „Jesi li dobro?" Kimnula sam. ,,Samo... samo mi treba malo zraka." Uspravila sam se, okrenula, izvukla mobitel i upisala pretraživanje ,,ostaju li bakterije ljudi s kojima se ljubiš u tvome tijelu". Na brzinu sam preletjela par rezultata pseudozna-nosti, prije nego sam pronašla stvarnu studiju na tu temu. U prosjeku se, po poljupcu, izmijeni nekih osamdeset milijuna mikroba, a ,,pri pregledu nakon šest mjeseci ljudski mikrobiom čini se umjereno, ali dosljedno promijenjenim". Njegove će bakterije zauvijek ostati u meni, njih osamdeset milijuna; razmnožavat će se i rasti u meni, i pridružiti se mojim bakterijama i stvoriti bog zna što. Osjetila sam njegovu ruku na svom ramenu. Okrenula sam se i trznula. Nisam mogla doći do daha. Pred očima mi se mutilo. Dobro si, Davis nije prvi dečko kojeg si poljubila. Osamdeset milijuna organizama u meni zauvijek. Smiri se. Trajno mijenjaju mikrobiom. Ovo nije racionalno. Moraš nešto učiniti. Molim te! Postoji rješenje. Molim te! Idi u kupaonicu. ,,Što se zbiva?" „Uh, ništa“, odgovorila sam. „Samo, hm, moram do kupaonice." Izvukla sam mobitel kako bih ponovo pročitala studiju, ali sam se oduprla porivu, ugasila ga i gurnula nazad u džep. Ali ne, morala sam provjeriti mijenjaju li ga blago ili umjereno. Ponovo sam izvukla mobitel i pogledala studiju. Blago. Dobro je. Blago je bolje nego umjereno. Ali dosljedno. Sranje.