Nick Miller Quotes & Sayings

Beauty is not always as perfect as we imagine it to be, but it can be damn close if we learn to accept the scary parts or the ugly parts. — Nick Miller

Light is always more beautiful when it has to fight to be noticed, like sunlight fighting through the clouds after a rainstorm. — Nick Miller

But to write it well and write the time well, you must learn to love your subjects to their core, even if you hate them, because, as a writer in the present, they're your only beautiful muses in this world. I'm quite convinced that very few, if any, can do it alone. Jake, you must understand something ... you must understand that momentary rage is good, but that abiding hate is ruinous. Don't hide from people in hate when you can rage silently in their presence. Rage means you're alive. Rage brings you closer to the truth. Misanthropes have nothing to write about, because they're already dead, and writing is for the living. — Nick Miller

I told him I'm not sleeping with him. I'm not that easy," she says. "Still, he invites me to Vegas and tells me he'll get me my own private suite, and that I could invite my girlfriends. So, I mean, my girlfriends and I obviously decide to go. When we get there, he lets us go shopping with his credit card. So we bought new clothes, facials, massages, purses, everything! Then we joined him and his friends for dinner ... Our dinner bill was, like - can you believe this? - $30,000! It was all the wine, appetizers, entrees, desserts, and champagne. The next week, I ignored his phone calls. I mean, I can't be bought. — Nick Miller

See, I'm the worst breed of human. Let me explain. Some people are dead inside. They go through life knowing this, and they manage fine enough, because, well, they're dead inside. They aren't bitter because they don't care enough to change. They just try to get by with the things they can control. Others live in the fucking clouds, watch romantic comedies, and dream about everything being perfect one day. These people are always fine because they have an everlasting well of hope inside them, and no matter what happens they'll just romanticize their existence.
But when it comes to me ... I'm someone who's mostly dead inside but still has a little hope for something extraordinary, which, as I said, is the worst breed of human, because it means that I know everything is bullshit, but that I secretly hope for the day when it might not be. The tension makes me wish I were just completely dead inside. It would makes things much easier for me. — Nick Miller

Some people are good at being in love. Some people are good at love. Two very different things, I think. Being in love is the romantic part - sex all the time, midday naps in the sheets, the jokes, the laughs, the fun, long conversations with no pauses, overwhelming separation anxiety ... Just the best sides of both people, you know? But love begins when the excitement of being in love starts to fade: the stress of life sets in, the butterflies disappear, the sex becomes a chore, the tears, the sadness, the arguments, the cattiness ... The worst parts of both people. But if you still want that person by your side through all of those things ... that's when you know - that's when you know you're good at love. — Nick Miller

I know now that truth is a troubling thing. You can't drink your way to it. You can't snort your way to it. You can't fuck your way to it. You can't love your way to it. You can only let it envelop you and try to make sense of it all. — Nick Miller

I feel like I'm just passing through life. But then there's this voice in my head telling me to do something, to create something, to make something, and I want to listen to it, but I don't know how. I want to be able to say something, but I have nothing to say. I want something extraordinary, but I'm ordinary in every way - I just read books about other people and browse the lives of my Facebook friends all day. — Nick Miller

A half-open window.
Morning-fresh air carries
curious sunlight into a bedroom.
Flecks of dust shimmer yellow-gold.
Four feet, entwined under white sheets.
Joni's Blue, on the player.
Delicate curtains slow-dance
to Sunday's tune.
Laughter.
Talk of: what for breakfast?
Anything. Anything at all. — Nick Miller

I'd begun to grow weary of my constant daydreaming because, as I retreated more often into fantasy, it had become a reminder of my growing discontent with real life. And my thoughts, after very little sleep, seemed to float even further into the realm of the superfluous. — Nick Miller

... I'm someone who's mostly dead inside but still has a little hope for something extraordinary, which, as I said, is the worst breed of human, because it means I know everything is bullshit, but that I secretly hope for the day when it might not be. — Nick Miller

Travel is wishing for one more bite of whatever that just was. — Nick Miller