Mark Z. Danielewski Quotes

To coach with your brother at any level is really special.

Whenever I discuss my family, I inevitably think of my brother Owen.

I would pick any team if I could go with my brother.

Aureliano not only understood by then, he also lived his brother’s experiences as something of his own, for on one occasion when the latter was explaining in great detail the mechanism of love, he interrupted him to ask: “What does it feel like?” José Arcadio gave an immediate reply: “It’s like an earthquake.

I guess we're really brothers, aren't we? Don't know what that means, except it means that some of the same things we remember.

If there wasn't The Beach Boys and there wasn't music, I wouldn't even talk to them. But through the music I fell in love with my brothers.

Maybe that's all that family really is, a group of people who all miss the same imaginary place.

And then I wonder, does my brother think of me this way? We entered this world together, one after the other, beats in a pulse. But I will be first to leave it. That's what I've been promised. When we were children, did he dare to imagine an empty space beside him where I then stood giggling, blowing soap bubbles through my fingers? When I die, will he be sorry that he loved me? Sorry that we were twins? Maybe he already is.

I've had to guess at her, sewing her skin together as I sew mine, though with a different stitch

I never feel the need to go out and make some grand statement that I'm dark and twisty and complicated, because I'm not that either. It's just not as simple as ponies and rainbows, though I do love ponies and rainbows.

My mom, my father, my little sisters, and my brother - I don't got that much family. I'm not really a family person. I just do my own thing. But I've just been spending time with my mom, especially since the [September motorcycle] accident happened. I drive all the way down there to Georgia just to check up on her. You just get tired of being that person that you thought you were. I don't feel no different. I see the music, because I made it. I don't really see the fame.

Brothers don't shake hands. Brothers gotta hug.

When I look at him, I don't see the cowardly young man who sold me out to Jeanine Matthews, and i don't hear the excuses he gave afterward. When I look at him, I see the boy who held my hand in the hospital when our mother broke her wrist and told me it would be all right. I see the brother who told me to make my own choices, the night before the Choosing Ceremony. I think of all the remarkable things he is--smart and enthusiastic and observant, quiet and earnest and kind.

A name is so important. A surname connects you to your past, to your family. Even a given name has meaning - why did your parents pick that particular one?

The hearts of all men dwell in the same wilderness.

I was like, wait a minute. When I hear my sisters' names, I want to have a joyful feeling in my heart about it.

I went to drama school with John Schwarz and Mike's his younger brother, so he tends to just hang out, that's it. So we're a pretty tight bunch of guys, they do whatever they do and they're my brothers basically.

There was Tyson moving into the Poseidon cabin, giggling to himself every fifteen seconds and saying, "Percy is my brother?" like he'd just won the lottery. Aw, Tyson," I'd say. "It's not that simple.

How fast has brother followed brother, From sunshine to the sunless land!

He is my brother. She is my sister. Come what will, they are my kin.

Forget the brother and resume the man.

Fondest memory of being a Beatle: Having three brothers.

My brothers are so much a part of who I am, and such a large part of my heart and my drive. I've never had a kid, but I understand that whole, "I would kill for my family" kind of thing. I understood it, it resonated with me. It's a very primal, animal thing that you feel for your family.

He who understands you is greater kin to you than your own brother. For even your own kindred neither understand you nor know your true worth.

Sometimes I think the people to feel the saddest for are people who are unable to connect with the profound—people such as my boring brother-in-law, a hearty type so concerned with normality and fitting in that he eliminates any possibility of uniqueness for himself and his own personality. I wonder if some day, when he is older, he will wake up and the deeper part of him will realize that he has never allowed himself to truly exist, and he will cry with regret and shame and grief.