Vineet Singh

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Sapiens: A Brief ...
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Jennifer Niven
“Because you smiled at me.” “What?” “You asked why I wanted to do this with you. It’s not because you were up on the ledge too, even though, okay, that’s part of it. It’s not because I feel this weird responsibility to keep an eye on you, which is also part of it. It’s because you smiled at me that day in class. A real smile, not the bullshit one I see you give everyone all the time where your eyes are doing one thing and your mouth is doing another.” “It was just a smile.” “Maybe to you.”
Jennifer Niven, All the Bright Places

“And medecine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love: these are what we stay alive for.”
Tom Schulman, Dead Poets Society

N.H. Kleinbaum
“They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you, their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because, you see gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? - - Carpe - - hear it? - - Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.”
N.H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society
tags: life

John  Green
“What a slut time is. She screws everybody.”
John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

“I close my eyes, and this image floats beside me.
A sweaty toothed mad man with a stare that pounds my brain.
His hands reach out and choke me, and all the time he's mumbling.
“Truth, truth.”
Like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold.
You push it, stretch it, but it'll never be enough.
You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us.
From the moment we enter crying,
to the moment we leave dying,
it'll just cover your face,
as you wail and cry and scream.”
Tom Schulman, Dead Poets Society

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