Best 52 quotes of F. K. Preston on MyQuotes

F. K. Preston

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    F. K. Preston

    Actors are learnt in flimsy ways. They’re speaking the words of someone else when you see them. A professional. Those are not their thoughts. So when you’re interviewing one it’s a bit of a gamble. Can they even string a sentence together? Are they an idiot? Are they the smartest person in the room? Are they well-read? Are they interesting? It always comes down to that last question. Are you interesting? Will you make this unique? I walked into this conversation expecting something. Can you deliver your lines like your characters do? Sometimes the answer is a resounding yes. Those are the best days. The worst ones go horribly. Because they’re just boring.

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    F. K. Preston

    A death in reverse is the rewinding of life. I do not die of old age, in a bed surrounded by strangers my loved ones paid to take care of me. I die in reverse. I die falling back into a younger age. From my forty-five years to twenty-five. To sixteen. When we were in love. To fourteen: when we first met. To five. To one. To the hospital my mother died at from the complications of my existence. A life for a life.

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    F. K. Preston

    All around us is a nothing that stretches on for infinity. We humans can barely comprehend that. If we comprehend it we are rarely pleased.

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    F. K. Preston

    All that is required of you is an open mind and a little patience.

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    F. K. Preston

    Am I entitled to my ego if my ego has manufactured impressive results?

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    F. K. Preston

    As an actor, I’ve spent every second of my life performing to people who don’t talk back. They never speak back. Understand? Participating in conversations becomes one of the hardest things alive when you make a living performing one-sided ones.

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    F. K. Preston

    But I can’t control my dreams. I can’t even remember them. For all I know I’m having the time of my life when I sleep, but I just can’t remember. So I’m forced to live in a life I have no control over. A life where I’m either numb to everything or terrified of every thought that crosses my mind. If this is all just a dream, then it sure is a disappointing one. But I still have time to try and control my dreams. I have time to try and make my dreams a reality in this waking life as well. The one bloody thing I have is time. I’ve got to remember that. I still have time. And despite everything, there is something reassuring about that.

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    F. K. Preston

    Did I love her? No. I obsessed over her completely. And thank heavens I was obsessed. Obsession, infatuation, is something short-lived. A sweet fever dream that leaves you exhausted from the high. Love is perpetual. Love is an entire world compared to that other form of mania people mistake love for. If love is loving the reality of a person, obsession is idealising the fantasy of another. Did I love her? No. Never. But I was utterly obsessed.

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    F. K. Preston

    Dreams are memories. Memories are dreams. But my time with you hasn’t become a dream just yet. Because the sensation of your kisses keep me from sleep. I’m in love, God help me, I’m in love.

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    F. K. Preston

    Dreams are memories we’ve lost to sleep.

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    F. K. Preston

    Dreams are the currency for the desperate and lonely." Said a man called Nothing.

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    F. K. Preston

    Four years ago the clocks started turning back. I open my eyes and see nothing. I feel nothing below or above me. I feel the absence of things. The absence of my flesh, my bones, my body, my mind. All that is left is awareness. I see nothing but the absence of colour. It’s not a black darkness. It’s simply nothing. The interior of a black hole. I recall news of a black hole lingering along the edges of our solar system. All that time ago. Four years ago. When the clocks started turning back. I hear nothing. Until there is a something. A small thing. A voice. I listen. There are more voices. The sounds are human. How long has it been since I’ve heard a human? The sounds scratch along my now present attention. They carve into my hearing. They are horrid, wretched things. Voices screaming. Growing loud and desperate. How many voices? Billions. This is the birth of our species. We are born screaming. It’s all we know to do. We have screamed for eternity. Within this empty space.

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    F. K. Preston

    From a lover to a life, the one thing you'll never get back is a moment.

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    F. K. Preston

    Hurting someone will not impress them. Intelligence requires empathy to work. Water is wet. The sky is pink through these rose-tinted glasses.

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    F. K. Preston

    I am a deeply uncertain individual. I often find myself acting like a fool to make the people around me laugh. When they’re laughing, they’re not watching me quite as closely. I smile to put people at ease. But what if I opened my mouth one day, spoke my actual thoughts, and the people glared at my opinions? What if they thought me disgusting or frightening or ugly because of my words? Would you keep your lips shut for the rest of your life to not face that judgment? Just for the sake of someone else’s comfort? For these strangers, who I will never know? If I can’t speak then I’ll write. These strangers, whose opinions crush me, will be forced to listen. Because when they read my words those words will make a home within their heads. They may even end up using my own opinions against me. But at least I’ll be hidden behind the pages of a book.

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    F. K. Preston

    I begin my life. I live again. I meet a young girl called Valeria. She smiles easily. She laughs tender sounds that pull at my heart. I’m too young to be profound but she makes me feel so safe. So cherished. I am thirty years old. I bump into a woman I knew when she was a girl. Valeria looks annoyed to see me. She lives in the future. Where the world is turning. I live within the past. Where the people are trapped and screaming and alone. I live within the past when Valeria and I were in love. She’s waiting for the cab to come, her foot tapping against the sidewalk. Her eyes glancing at her watch every few minutes. I’m eager to reunite our lives through some kind of friendship. I’m so eager to know her again, as she was when she was a child. But Valeria lives within the future. I live within the past. Have the two ever gotten along? Have they ever even met?

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    F. K. Preston

    Idle living turns me into an idiot. I can’t afford to get stupid. I’ve already been irritating. I’ve used up my passes on personality flaws.

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    F. K. Preston

    If my life was pulled into the pages of a book, there would be coffee stains and wrinkles along the lines of that narrative. Because all I can wish is that the book of my life would be well read and well loved. Living within words and the sound of writing.

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    F. K. Preston

    If you don’t grow. If you don’t learn. If you don’t change. If you don’t listen. It’s likely you’re wrong.

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    F. K. Preston

    I keep dying and hoping you notice me. But you’re too busy living.

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    F. K. Preston

    I made myself speak without thinking. This was the only way I could sound human.

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    F. K. Preston

    I recall my life every day. I recall my sins and my acts of purity. I remind myself I was never a religious man. I remind myself that I have been dead for half of forever. I remind myself of nothing. I move along to the next minute. Next day. Next year. The earth doesn’t change so much anymore. It doesn’t change so quickly. With humans, the earth had to keep changing. But you can only replace a dying thing so many times before someone notices. There haven’t been humans for years. Maybe a decade. Maybe more. I find myself loving their absence. The absence of humanity is the absence of violence. I love this peace. But then I remember my bones. My mind and my memories. I remember I’m human. I am the thing I detest. The creature that haunts my steps. It’s my shadow I see watching me. It’s my reflection in the water. I keep remembering. I live in fear. But still, I walk on.

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    F. K. Preston

    It was a bright day for me when I realised there wasn’t any one way to live as myself. You’re not a character. You have as many sides and reflections as the ripples that pass through a river in the spring. Don’t trick yourself into thinking you must be one person. Because you will never be only one person. Not even in the span of a day are you only one person. We are worlds stitched inside skin. There’s nothing small or simple about a world. There’s nothing small or simple about any living being. Remember this the next time someone tells you who to be and how to live. They haven’t figured it out yet. But don’t let yourself forget.

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    F. K. Preston

    I wanted to give you something that would last forever. Something that would surpass the world, that would still be alive and bright even after you passed away. Something beautiful. For your eyes and smile only. But I never found it. All I could give you is words. Words which were as fleeting as the heartbeats that shook my soul whenever you looked my way.

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    F. K. Preston

    I wish I could run into the world’s arms. Linger within the spaces between nothing. I wish I could filter out of existence. To live quietly without dying. I wish I could be cherished by life itself. To speak and sing volumes without lying to myself.

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    F. K. Preston

    Live this life as gently as you would breathe in the seaside air. Then release all those dreams and wonders to the water. Keep breathing until you’re inches from where you wish to be. Then exhale, remembering that gentle life you grew up from.

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    F. K. Preston

    Mr. Nothing looked ready to bolt out of the place. But it was too crowded to bolt. He would have to shuffle. And shuffling away from an argument was never a cool thing to do. I suspected Mr. Nothing, as most celebrities must, spent a lot of time trying to figure out various ways to look cool.

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    F. K. Preston

    My creativity keeps me from starving. Humanity keeps my life mundane. Loving secures my love for life, but my imagination keeps me sane.

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    F. K. Preston

    My darling Prometheus, you failed at being human. It’s such a simple thing to be human. You didn’t understand that you never had to be any good at it. You simply had to try. The modern Prometheus. I feel your inadequacy under my skin. Crawling like worms. You possessed that love and rage indeed. Entertain away, dear Monster. Frankenstein forced you into humanity. Tried to make you a man. That was his first mistake. You should have aimed for the Gods.

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    F. K. Preston

    My sister lived in the moment. She said she would love the summer only when it came and warmed her. But I lived and still live in the future. Where it’s warm when it’s cold. Where dreams are not yet reality. Where the sad people are happy. The only problem with living in the future is that everyone has died, including yourself. So your plans are fiction and your predictions are fantasy. Living in the future is pure fantasy. I think that’s why I love it so dearly.

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    F. K. Preston

    People omit the truth all the time. But inevitably you'll be forced to make something up to hide the absence of your honesty. Did you get into the game already a liar? Or was it something you made yourself into along the way?

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    F. K. Preston

    The belief in their actions can mend constellations. The ambition in their thirst for knowledge can both create and destroy.

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    F. K. Preston

    The greatest happiness is a quiet kind. It’s the tender understanding that we’re living in a very strange place full of strange creatures. And there’s quite a bit of wonder in that.

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    F. K. Preston

    The greatest magicians know every single thought their audience is thinking. They know every thought their audience could think and might think and will think. They choose to either prove them right or trick them again and again. A mixture of the two, however, is perfect. There are no greater storytellers in the world then magicians. Who could make you question your reality as well as a magician can disappear and reappear in the seat beside you? Who else, other than a magician, could bring their final act into your dreams? Who could build a narrative and finish it with as big a finale than a magician?

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    F. K. Preston

    The problem with creations is that they’ll never understand their true value. It’s the same with parents and children. The mother knows her daughter is important but she does not voice this fact. So the daughter will constantly wonder what her worth is. She will forever look to the mother for reassurance. The mother thinks the daughter is clingy. The daughter thinks the mother is cold. The truth is that they don’t communicate with one another. They just assume. And so they assume themselves into resentment. Where they never speak. They never listen. They die wondering why what they gave was never enough. Thankfully this is easily fixed. All that is required is an open mind and a little patience. But who the hell’s got time for that?

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    F. K. Preston

    There are no humans left. I should not be alone. I can’t help but wonder that. There were so many of us living. But time started growing young four years ago. It isn’t four years anymore. It’s a number I wouldn’t even be able to say. It feels like four years. It’s trapped in my tender memory as four years. It’s been an age. Multiple ages. It’s been lifetimes; every single lifetime that used to exist. I remember my mother screaming. I recall the doctors naming me as nurses wiped away her blood and covered her face with white. The end of the play. It’s been so long. Why am I alone?

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    F. K. Preston

    There are things we cannot vocalise because the repercussions of particular thoughts have the power to break lives.

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    F. K. Preston

    There is nothing to me but you. I know it’s pathetic but, oh darling, it’s true.

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    F. K. Preston

    There’s nothing that makes me cry harder than fiction. There’s nothing that makes me weep, nothing that holds my breath and brings tears stinging to my eyes more than fiction. And all those sad realities which filter through my days. They leave no lasting impression. All they serve is small reminders of my busy life. Small purposes: remember the pain of the world. Okay, alright. I remember it all. Then I go watch a movie. I listen to the classical music station in my car at five-thirty pm where they always play that same song. I watch a play, watch the performance. Watch the smoke descend upon the stage. This fiction. It’s the only thing that affects me. Funny, isn’t it?

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    F. K. Preston

    The strangest thing about demons is that they come to love you. As much as they try to murder the very core of you when you first meet, they become your closest companions. I never asked for this devil on my shoulder. But my eyes are burning and I’m not alone. If you see a red gaze at midheaven, look away. It’s exactly as they say: hell is a hungry place.

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    F. K. Preston

    The truth is there isn’t anything to me at all. All I know is that I can’t sleep well, I can’t dream well and I’m quite in love with you. That’s all there is to me. My greatest feature is my admiration for you. I know it’s not healthy. Like my insomnia. Like my dreamless nights. You make living alright. My nightmares come when I think of a night without Valeria. That’s when I realise you’re dead. That’s when I remember you’ve been gone for years. That’s when I remember I’m awake. And I wait for this dream called Life to leave me to my peace once and for all and forever.

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    F. K. Preston

    The world didn't end with a whimper or a bang. Your life finished in complete silence. Gone in a blink. And then there was nothing.

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    F. K. Preston

    Two dreams and a cup of coffee later.

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    F. K. Preston

    Violence can read like poetry. You just have to describe the act as if you’re in love with the way your characters bleed.

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    F. K. Preston

    We are not bound by time. But there are things we cannot speak of because the repercussions of particular thoughts can break lives.

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    F. K. Preston

    What a selfish boy you are. You wished for the world but all you received were the skies.

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    F. K. Preston

    What is infinity? I haven’t a clue. But maybe that’s the whole point I’ve been attempting to explain to you. The fact that it’s not known Or seen Or heard. Infinity is every person, every being, every bird. Infinity is a simple mystery. It looks like a mystery. Tastes mysterious. Feels like something completely delirious. We cannot imagine what this sound could be. All we can imagine is infinity.

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    F. K. Preston

    When I first met you, you had your arm in a sling. Your front teeth were crooked. There was this great, big, grin stretched across your face. I was curious. Sometimes curious is a far worse thing to be than in love.

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    F. K. Preston

    Where do they go, these dreams of mine? Do they live? Do they die? Do they fall? Do they fly?

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    F. K. Preston

    Winter’s come and I’m miserable. I hate depression. This self-pity. I’m rather drowning in it. We always get posh when we’re miserable. I’m rather empty. Looking outside, the morning is drowning in rain. Is my mind so easily dictated by the weather? What am I, a plant? I have legs to move me inside. Feet to dance. A voice to sing. That tree isn’t moping about. Although, if you don’t have a mind to mope with, you’ll hardly mope in the first place. But all mindful beings mope. Even that tabby cat huddled under the neighbour’s car looks miserable.