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J Quotes

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All J Quotes

“Josh Billings said, It is not only the most difficult thing to know oneself, but the most inconvenient one, too. Human beings have always employed an enormous variety of clever devices for running away from themselves, and the modern world is particularly rich in such stratagems.”

“Josh had told me a long time ago that he had this theory that an entire relationship was based on what occurred over the course of the first five minutes you know each other. That everything that came after those first minutes was just details being filled in. Meaning: you already knew how deep the love was, how instinctually you felt about someone. What happened in their first five minutes? Time stopped.”

“Josh Hanagarne has an astonishing story to tell, and he does so with insight, humor, grace, and wonder. All human beings suffer and struggle. Through the lens of his own miraculous experiences, Mr. Hanagarne illuminates the path to joy and the infinite possibilities of transcendence.”

“Josh pulls me aside. "Hey, About before, I just... I wanted to say ... well, I think you're pretty special." He says, kind of stumbling over the words a little. Like he's hesitant to say them, now i wish he'd hug me again. And then kiss me. But he doesn't. He just waves and walks off. I sigh. "Hannah, I just... I want you to know if I pause alot when I tell you how special you are I want you to think that I'm... very... very... deep," Finn says”

“Josh’s heart flooded with happiness. Witnessing people adopt a pet was like watching them fall in love. Everyone was a kid again, experiencing the rush of infatuation that inevitably turned into a deep bond. Waves of Grace”

“Josh turns to me. “I can’t believe she’s writing these things.” “Not she,” I say. “Me.” “Why would anyone say this stuff about themselves on the Internet? It’s crazy!” “Exactly,” I say. “I’m going to be mentally ill in fifteen years, and that’s why my husband doesn’t want to be around me.”

“Josh wanted to be the one to break the color barrier. When the Dodgers signed Jackie Robinson he knew it was over for him. He wasn't going to make the big leagues, and he also knew that because of his health and his bad knees his career with the Grays was about over. He didn't know what to do with himself. They say a man can't die of a broken heart, and I guess that's true. But I'll tell you this, all of this sure lessened Josh's will to keep going, to keep fighting to stay alive.”

“Josh, you saw him," Tally says, "What did he look like? Did he look nice?" "He looked like a person," Josh grunts. "Don't be a spoilsport," Tally says, and Caid hears her smack Josh on the arm. "Shortish, blondish, thinish," Josh says. "Thank you, Josh," Caid says, "Your way with words astounds me yet again." "Well, whatever," Tally says. "What did you guys talk about? You said he's nice?" "We talked about a lot of things. And yeah, he's—I mean, we traded numbers, so hopefully he'll call." "I hope so, too," Tally says. "I'm glad you have somebody to hang out with now." "Because I was such horrible company?" Josh says, voice thick and deep like he's got a mouthful of ice cream. "I wouldn't say horrible," Caid says. "Unbearable, maybe. Like one of those YouTube videos that never loads." And with that, he shoots a shit-eating grin in Josh's direction, and shovels a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.”

“Josh, my question to you is why you ran against a Republican and spent $100,000, wasted $100,000, that could have been spent on the west side of the state getting us a majority in the House of Representatives, especially since, at least in two of those swing districts we probably could win with that $100,00”

“Joshie has always told Post Human Services Staff to keep a diary, to remember who we were because every moment, our brains and synapses are being rebuilt and rewired with maddening disregard for our personalities, so that each year, each month, each day, we transfer into a different person, an utterly unfaithful iteration of our original selves, of the drooling kid in the sandbox. But not me. I am still a facsimile of my early childhood. I am still looking for a loving dad to lift me up and brush the sand off my ass and to hear English, calm and hurtless, fall off his lips.”

“Joshua had always been able to get away with things—things for which he should never have been forgiven. He was a lot like James in that respect, for while my husband had bought his grace with his brilliance, Joshua did so with his looks. I considered that a moment, before turning away, suddenly finding I could not bear to look at him for fear of what I might forgive next.”

“Joshua is one of the people who taught me about respecting pace, particularly when it is very slow. I do believe we all heal as quickly as we can given the co-integrating nature of our embodied brains, so when the process unfolds very slowly, it often speaks to us of the magnitude of what is coming [emerging to be healed].”

“Joshua Joseph has no real hatred of modern technology - he just mistrusts the effortless, textureless surfaces, and the ease with which it trains you to do things in the way most convenient to the machine. Above all, he mistrusts duplication. A rare thing becomes a commonplace thing. A skill becomes a feature. The end is more important than the means. The child of the soul gives place to a product of the system....For anything really important, Joe prefers something with a history, an item which can name the hand which assembled it and will warm to the one that deploys it. A thing of life, rather than one of the many consumer items which humans use to make more clutter; strange parasitic devices with their own little ecosystems.”

“Joshua levered himself out of bed. He’d shave, get dressed, and take a walk with Major before frying himself some breakfast. As a boy, if he could have even imagined himself so old as thirty-three, he’d have assumed he’d be leaving a wife behind staying warm in bed or making breakfast, or better yet, accompanying him on his morning amble. But things change. War changes them. And solitude suited him, these days.”

“Joshua's ministry was three years of preaching, sometimes three times a day, and although there were some high and low points, I could never remember the sermons word for word, but here's the gist of almost every sermon I ever heard Joshua give. You should be nice to people, even creeps. And if you: a) believed that Joshua was the Son of God (and) b) he had come to save you from sin (and) c) acknowledged the Holy Spirit within you (became as a little child, he would say) (and) d) didn't blaspheme the Holy Ghost (see c) then you would: e) live forever f) someplace nice g) probably heavan However, if you: h) sinned (and/or) i) were a hypocrite (and/or) j) valued things over people (and) k) didn't do a, b, c, and d, then you were: l) fucked”

“Joshua took a gulp of his own brew. “Need I have some other cause, when this plague could devastate so many of my patients and neighbors? When, if some of the reports prove true, we might see the town reduced painfully in size, as farmers abandon their holdings and flee to the East?” If the thought of one particular family leaving town, of Clara Brook’s tall figure climbing aboard a wagon and vanishing beyond the horizon, gave him a peculiar twinge, he was hardly obliged to say so.”

“Joshua took another small sip from his wine glass as his gaze and his thoughts drifted away from the flat-screen television mounted above the marbled fireplace to ponder a roomful of sports jackets and pantsuits and in some cases cocktail dresses but only of neutral tones and minimal detailing if for no other reason than to avoid becoming the subject of the next petty scandal that would nevertheless send shockwaves through their haughty and insular world. The way they stood in their intimate clusters. Their drink glasses held in various poses of sophistication. And whenever they did bring glass to mouth in accordance with judiciously preset intervals it was also for show, as he believed was true of their subdued conversations, which, from where he was sitting, appeared to be nothing more than the unintelligible murmurings of barely moving lips. A whole list of observations came to mind. Not one of them flattering in any way. The atmosphere thick with that certain stuffiness and elitist redolence of an ivy league alumni fundraising gala. Of course, he readily admitted to himself that out of everyone in the room he was very likely the most materially bereft and least credentialed and that this stinging truth undoubtedly inflamed his plebeian impulse. But that’s not what was bugging him.”