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Narrator: Marla’s philosophy of life is that she might die at any moment. The tragedy, she said, was that she didn’t.

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Tyler Durden: Fuck off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns, I say never be complete, I sayI say let… lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may. stop being perfect,

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“The things you own end up owning you.” – Tyler Durden

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[while burning the Narrator’s hand with lye]
Tyler Durden: Shut up! Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers bailed, what does that tell you about God?
Narrator: No, no, I… don’t…
Tyler Durden: Listen to me! You have to consider the possibility that God does not like you. He never wanted you. In all probability, He hates you. This is not the worst thing that can happen.
Narrator: It isn’t?
Tyler Durden: We don’t need Him!

Tyler Durden: Fuck damnation, man! Fuck redemption! We are God’s unwanted children? So be it!
Narrator: OK. Give me some water!
Tyler Durden: Listen, you can run water over your hand and make it worse or…
[shouts]
Tyler Durden: look at me… or you can use vinegar and neutralize the burn.
Narrator: Please let me have it… *Please*!
Tyler Durden: First you have to give up, first you have to *know*… not fear… *know*… that someday you’re gonna die.

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Tyler Durden: Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who’ve ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need. We’re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War’s a spiritual war… our Great Depression is our lives. We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won’t. And we’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.

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Narrator: You had to give it to him: he had a plan. And it started to make sense, in a Tyler sort of way. No fear. No distractions. The ability to let that which does not matter truly slide.

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Tyler Durden: You’re not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You’re not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You’re not your fucking khakis. You’re the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.

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Tyler Durden: Listen up, maggots. You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You’re the same decaying organic matter as everything else.

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Tyler Durden: We are all part of the same compost heap.

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this is your life

and you open the door
and you step inside
we’re inside our hearts
now imagine your pain
is a white ball of healing light
that’s right, feel your pain,
the pain itself,
is a white ball of healing light

i don’t think so

this is your life
good to the last drop,
doesn’t get any better than this
this is your life, and it’s ending
one minute at a time
this isn’t a seminar
and this isn’t a weekend retreat
where you are now
you can’t even imagine
what the bottom will be like

only after disaster
can we be resurrected
it’s only after you’ve lost
everything that you’re
free to do anything
nothing is static,
everything is appalling, evolving,
everything is
falling apart

you are not a beautiful and unique snowflake
you are the same decaying
organic matter as everything else
we are all a part of the same compost heap
we are the all-singing,
all-dancing crap of the world
you are not your bank account,
you are not the clothes you wear
you are not the contents of your wallet
you are not your bowel cancer
you are not your grande latte
you are not the car you drive
you are not your fucking khakis

you have to give up

you have to realise that someday you will die,
until you know that you are useless

i say let me never be complete
i say may i never be content
i say deliver me from swedish furniture
i say deliver me from clever art
i say deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth
i say you have to give up
i say evolve, and let the chips
fall where they may

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