— You know why they put oxygen masks on planes?
— So you can breathe.
— Oxygen gets you high. In a catastrophic emergency, you take giant panic breaths. Suddenly you become euphoric, docile. You accept your fate. It's all right here. Emergency water landing, 600mph. Blank faces. Calm as hindu cows.
— That's um... That's an interesting theory.

This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.

Narrator: When people think you're dying, they really, really listen to you, instead of just…
Marla: …instead of just waiting for their turn to speak.

I ran. I ran until my muscles burned and my veins pumped battery acid. Then I ran some more.

Trust me. Everything's gonna be fine. You met me at a very strange time in my life.

With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.

No fear. No distractions. The ability to let that which does not matter truly slide.

If you wake up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?

Narrator: Tyler, you are by far the most interesting single-serving friend I've ever met. ... See, I have this thing: everything on a plane is single-serving...
Tyler Durden: Oh, I get it. It's very clever.
Narrator: Thank you.
Tyler Durden: How's that working out for you?
Narrator: What?
Tyler Durden: Being clever.
Narrator: ... Great.

I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.

— I know it's been like there's two sides to me.
— Two sides? You're Dr. Jeckle and Mr. Jackass.

When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake.

This is how I met Marla Singer. Marla's philosophy of life is that she might die at any moment. The tragedy, she said, was that she didn't.

After fighting, everything else in your life got the volume turned down. <...> You can deal with anything.

For six months I could not sleep. With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy.

— I felt like putting a bullet between the eyes of every Panda that wouldn't screw to save its species. I wanted to open the dump valves on oil tankers and smother all those French beaches I'd never see. I wanted to breathe smoke.
— Where'd you go, psycho boy?
— I felt like destroying something beautiful.