We accept the love we think we deserve, and we are pathologically undervaluing ourselves time and time again.
When you tell him you’re meeting up with your fuck buddy from college and he indifferently nods his head, he doesn’t care what or who you’re doing.
That you’ll have to redefine “happy.”
“Why do I often fail?”
Aren’t we all (by we, I mean everyone who lives / comes to New York City) looking for a cheap eat?
“My driver showed up wearing a full tuxedo, zero explanation.”
The greatest lie, in our maximized world, is that more is more or that better is truly better.
She plays the Manic Pixie Dream Girl in this movie, after all. Why isn’t she behaving the same way in real life? Why is she providing them with sarcasm and disagreement and judgment, when she should simply be smiling, oozing gratitude, and throwing out a cute joke here and there?
Hey, it’s not your fault they’re so sensitive — right?
We’ve all heard the phrase “don’t hate the player, hate the game.” What happens, though, when you don’t even know how to play the game?