Quotes From "Stay Awake" By Dan Chaon

Even when our death is imminent, we carry the image...
1
Even when our death is imminent, we carry the image of ourselves moving forward, alive, into the future. Dan Chaon
2
You want a child because it is a link in the bridge that you are building between the past and the future, a cantilever that holds you, so that you are not alone. Dan Chaon
3
He had built his own future brick by brick around himself but there were no doors or windows, at least that was the way it seemed at the time he had thought to himself, I am locked in, it was like one of those ghost stories where you wake up and you are sealed in a coffin. Dan Chaon
4
I guess I always thought it would be bigger, when a terrible thing happened. Didn't you think so? Doesn't it seem like houses ought to be caving in, and lightning and thunder, and people tearing their hair in the street? I never - I never thought it would be this small, did you? Dan Chaon
5
Hesitantly, I touched the stump where my finger used to be. In my mind, something almost remembered itself, but the fumes of turpentine were making me a little lightheaded; whatever memory was on the verge of coughing itself up was gone even before it materialized. Out the window, I could see a squirrel was stumbling erratically around in circles underneath the old basketball net. Then I realized that it wasn't a squirrel; it was a brown paper bag. . Dan Chaon
6
There is your car and the open road, the fabled lure of random adventure. You stand at the verge, and you could become anything. Your future shifts and warps with your smallest step, your shitty little whims. The man you will become is at your mercy. Dan Chaon
7
You could say that they were sweet, or you could say that they were something out of a horror movie. Dan Chaon
8
A conclusion is simply the place where you got tired of thinking. Dan Chaon
9
I guess, " says Deagle, finally, "I'll just have a pack of Marlboro Lights. That's what I used to smoke when I was human. Dan Chaon
10
There is a stage you reach, Deagle thinks, a time somewhere in early middle age, when your past ceases to be about yourself. Your connection to your former life is like a dream or delirium, and that person who you once were is merely a fond acquaintance, or a beloved character from a storybook. This is how memory becomes nostalgia. They are two very different things - the same way that a person is different from a photograph of a person. . Dan Chaon
11
Here is the door of my mom's house, well-remembered childhood portal. Here is the yard, and a set of wires that runs from the house to a wooden pole, and some fat birds sitting together on the wires, five of them lined up like beads on an abacus. Dan Chaon
12
Outside, the sleet had gotten thicker. You could hear it pebbling against the large glass windows, you could see it swirling wildly through the spotlights of street lamps. It was the kind of night when you might expect to see a skeleton flying through the air, its ragged black shroud flapping in the wind. Dan Chaon
13
You really romanticize the white-trash period of your life, ' Rain once said to me, which I thought was a little hurtful but perhaps true. Dan Chaon
14
The desire to remake that shrinking expanse of life they were still allotted, to make use of it, to fill it up with possibility. Oh please: one more transformation. Dan Chaon
15
It had occurred to him that if the undead don't realize that they are dead, he might easily be one of them himself. Dan Chaon
16
I've been talking to myself a lot lately. I don't know what that's about, but my mother was the same way. She hated to make small talk with other people, but get her into a conversation with herself and she was quite the raconteur. She would tell herself a joke and clap her hands together as she let out a laugh; she would murmur to the plants as she watered them, and offer encouragement to the food as she cooked it. Sometimes I would walk into a room and surprise her as she was regaling herself with some delightful story, and I remember how the sound would dry up in her mouth. She stood there, frozen in the headlights of my teenage scorn. Dan Chaon