It was understood that they shared the same thresholds--the same inexhaustible appetite for wasting time, for discussing lofty ideas, for dissecting trivial things, for driving to nowhere in particular, for listening to music, for talking about books, for obsessing over… — Galt Niederhoffer Copy Share Image
“Time passed at an accelerated pace. They could be sitting in traffic or talking on the phone or waiting in line for a movie, and their time felt precious, important, worthwhile.” — Galt Niederhoffer Copy Share Image
“Rivalry glued the girls together in a way that regular contact could not.” — Galt Niederhoffer Copy Share Image
“Their looks and personalities were still intact, but some thing had atrophied ever so slightly. Their faces bore the distinct wear of goals gone… — Galt Niederhoffer Copy Share Image
Technically, on the spectrum of very bad things, they did nothing truly wicked. But of course, that spectrum has no measure for the greatest… — Galt Niederhoffer Copy Share Image
“Physical attraction did its part to glue them together, but something stronger than sexual attraction sealed the bond. When men and women grow apart,… — Galt Niederhoffer Copy Share Image
“If something terrible happens to me, it's not my job to spare you from my pain.” — Galt Niederhoffer Copy Share Image
“Assigning degrees of blame to betrayal is a difficult project, much like deciding which of two murderers has the more wicked heart. With murder,… — Galt Niederhoffer Copy Share Image
“The crux of the problem was this: He was at once everything and nothing she needed. Seen from afar, they were picturesque, a symphony… — Galt Niederhoffer Copy Share Image
“The state of being lost, he seemed to imply, granted him a kind of freedom.” — Galt Niederhoffer Copy Share Image
“He began to view writing as a petty ambition, a frivolous and indulgent whim, creativity itself as the pathology of the very young or… — Galt Niederhoffer Copy Share Image
“The sound of his voice was an overwhelming relief, like remembering the name of a beloved song or returning to a childhood haunt to… — Galt Niederhoffer Copy Share Image
