Found 446 results
49.7s
Had I slept? Is Tyler my bad dream, or am I Tyler's? We�ve just heard the stories. What kind of stories? Like, nobody knows what he looks like. He has facial reconstructive surgery every 3 years. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Is it true about Fight Club in Miami? Is Mr. Durden building an army? I was living in a state of perpetual d�j� vu. Everywhere I went, I felt I'd already been there. It was like following an invisible man. The smell of dried blood, dirty, bare footprints circling each other, that aroma of old sweat, like fried chicken. The feel of a floor still warm from the fight the night before. I was always just one step behind Tyler.
Fight Club
1m25s
Slide. Every evening, I died... and every evening, I was born again. Resurrected. Bob loved me because he thought my testicles were removed, too. Being there... pressed against his tits, ready to cry. This was my vacation. And she ruined everything. This is cancer, right? This chick Marla Singer did not have testicular cancer. She was a liar. She had no diseases at all. I had seen her at Free and Clear my blood parasites group Thursdays. Then at Hope, my bimonthly sickle cell circle. And again at Seize the Day, my tuberculosis Friday night. Marla, the big tourist. Her lie reflected my lie, and suddenly, I felt nothing. I couldn't cry. So once again, I couldn't sleep.
Fight Club
50.5s
Now we're going to open the green door, the heart chakra. I wasn't really dying. I wasn't host to cancer or parasites. I was the warm little center that the life of this world crowded around. Imagine your pain as a white ball of healing light. It moves over your body, healing you. Now, keep this going. Remember to breathe, and step forward through the back door of the room. Where does it lead? To your cave. Step forward into your cave. That's right. You're going deeper into your cave, and you're going to find your power animal.
Fight Club
41.5s
My name is Bob. Bob. Bob had been a champion body-builder. You know that chest-expansion program you see on late-night TV? That was his idea. I was a juicer. You know, using steroids. Diabonal and... Wistrol. Oh, they use that on racehorses, for Christ sakes. And now I'm bankrupt. I'm divorced. My 2 grown kids... won't even return my phone calls. Strangers with this kind of honesty make me go a big rubbery one.
Fight Club