Forget her, she's a predator posing as a house pet.
Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers failed, what does that tell you about God?
You have to consider the possibility that God does not like you. He never wanted you. In all probability, he hates you. This is not the worst thing that can happen.
Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see us squandering it. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.
Little by little you're letting yourself become Tyler Durden.
In the world I see - you are stalking elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of Rockefeller Center. You'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life. You'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower. And when you look down, you'll see tiny figures pounding corn, laying strips of venison on the empty car pool lane of some abandoned superhighway.
Listen up maggots. You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else.
This isn't a 'for real' suicide thing. This is probably one of those 'cry for help' things.
I want to have your abortion.
It's a bridesmaid's dress. Someone loved it intensely for one day. Then, tossed it... like a Christmas tree. So special, then bam;it's on the side of the road, tinsel still clinging to it, like a sex crime victim, underwear inside out, bound with electrical tape.
Technically, I have more of a right to be there than you; you still have your balls." (to The Narrator in reference a testicular cancer meeting)
You're gonna have to keep me up all night...