284 Quotes by Ned Vizzini

It’s such a silly little thing, the heart.

So why am I depressed? That’s the million-dollar question, baby, the Tootsie Roll question; not even the owl knows the answer to that one. I don’t know either. All I know is the chronology.

And that was the closest I’ve ever come to an epiphany.

I wanted to tell people, “My depression is acting up today” as an excuse for not seeing them, but I never managed to pull it off.

The Shift hasn’t happened yet, maybe it never will, but sometimes-just enough times to give me hope-my brain jars back into where it’s supposed to be.

Dad nods, looks me dead in the eyes; slowly and regretfully, he banishes all the smiling and joking from his face, and for once he’s just my dad, watching his son who has fallen so low.

Sometimes I just think depression’s one way of coping with the world. Like, some people get drunk, some people do drugs, some people get depressed. Because there’s so much stuff out there that you have to do something to deal with it.

People are screwed up in this world. I’d rather be with someone screwed up and open about it.

I don’t owe people anything, and I don’t have to talk to them any more than I feel I need to.