—LUCK CAME DOWN AND DIED ‘ROUND HERE

 

 

All This Life / Joshua Mohr

 

 

--The world is a search engine.

 

--How can he tell his son that becoming an adult is learning to live with your failures, learning to dodge these dying birds as they thump back to earth? How do you say that to your boy?

 

--Jake is a banner ad that his dad won’t click. He’s a pop-up. He’s something equally annoying.

 

--You don’t mortgage tomorrow because today is streaked in shit.

 

--She learned too young how unfair the world can be. How you should, under no circumstance, wonder if life can get any worse, because it always can. There’s no such thing as the bottom. Not really. You might not be able to sink any deeper but you can sprawl down there, exist horizontally.

 

--Yes, sometimes letters don’t have words; sometimes the image tells you everything.

 

--“My advice would be to follow your sweaty palms. See what happens if you live a life that makes your palms sweat all the time. See what wonders await you.”

 

--Protection is a wicked illusion.

 

--That was the horrible thing about signs: Often they were only legible once the outcome was clear.

 

--He’s a disaster shepherd. Their deaths are his property.

 

--Loving a drunkard is like running with the bulls.

 

--Pretty soon what you were craving became a god, Jesus Christ, whiskey, whatever. The only reason to live was to worship that deity, and the only way to show your devotion was to consume another drink.

 

--There’s something special about constructing your version of someone else.

 

--Sometimes there are disasters, sure, and afterward those scars are turned into something else.

 

--History is important, but so is tomorrow.

 

--He’s constipated. It’s like everything is dammed up behind a wall of worry.

 

--Having a kid is the ultimate risk.

 

--Human sadness is what’s heating up the world.

 

--Your. Face. Is. Great.

 

--Now, who the hell are you?