About Austin Grossman: Austin Seth Grossman is an American writer and game designer. He has contributed to the New York Times and to some video games.
One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered... I'm going to put a mask on and scrawl my name across the face of the world, build cities of gold, come back and stomp this place flat, until even the bricks are just dust. So you can just ...
I'm the smartest man in the world. Once I wore a cape in public, and fought battles against men who could fly, who had metal skin, who could kill you with their eyes. I fought CoreFire to a standstill, and the Super Squadron, and the Champions. Now I...
You're surprised at all the blood. He looks over at you, eyes wide, mouth dropping open, his face almost as white as his shirt. He's surprised, too.
The problem with books is that they end.
I fold my hands under my head and tell the books all about you. They listen, Beck. I know it sounds crazy, but they do.
And [Benji] cheats on you, Beck. A lot. Compulsively. He is in intense pursuit of a performance artist who fucks with his head the way he fucks with yours.
Think When did it go wrong? The break-in? No, before that. The party? That was part of it, but that wasn't when it started. Zack? Of course, yeah, it would be easy to say it was Zack. But that's not it, is it? Before Zack. Before Ryan. Before Max and...
The only thing crueler than a cage so small that a bird can’t fly is a cage so large that a bird thinks it can fly.
That's the problem with this never-ending centipede of lemmings, Beck. You know they're all pussies, each and every one of 'em. They buy these books to get scared because their lives are too easy. How pathetic is that?
The woman was simply leaving us alone with our future, the future she wouldn't be a part of. She didn't know how to do it or what it was, but she was trying to give it to us.
Your lips were made for mine, Beck. You are the reason I have a mouth, a heart.
And I will never again underestimate the power of anticipation. There is no better boost in the present than an invitation into the future.
If we were teenagers, I could kiss you. But I’m on a platform behind a counter wearing a name tag and we’re too old to be young.
I peeked in the bag. Do you know what was in there? I'll tell you what was in there: a collapsible tray table. Is there any sadder purchase in this fucking world? Maybe a CD of C+C Music Factory's Greatest Hits, but that's about it.
But the most important thing I know is that I want the possibility of you more than the reality of [her].
In my defense, I love the book in a postmodern kind of way where I've always sensed that it contains something that I relate to. I think it's the kind of book that echoes my beliefs and my sentiments and I've always related well to people who have re...
And then it happens, the most dreaded response in the world, more terse than any word, more withholding than a "no," and strictly verboten for someone as in love with language and me as you claim to be. You: "K
The teachers complain that the students today are all lazy, ignorant, and stupid. But the truth is that you're smarter than they are. You're not even old enough to drive and you already know that none of this matters.
The textbooks are dumbed down to the where your kid sister could probably read them, and the teacher go over and over and over the same stuff anyway, drilling it into your head so that they can ask you one hundred multiple-choice questions to get it ...
There's always a but. It's a magical word. You can say anything you want, go on for as long as you want, and then all you have to do is add the magic word and instantly everything you said is erased, turned meaningless, just like that.
