Fight Club

Someday I'd be dead without a scar. [...] Nothing is static. Even the Mona Lisa is falling apart.
Maybe self-improvement isn't the answer.
Maybe self-destruction is the answer.

Fight club is not football on television. You aren't watching a bunch of men you don't know halfway around the world beating on each other live by satelite with a two-minute delay, commercials pitching beer every ten minutes, and a pause now for station identification. After you've been to fight club, watching football on television is watching pornography when you could be having great sex.

At the time, my life just seemed too complete, and maybe we have to break everything to make something better out of ourselves.

We both stood there [...] knowing we'd gotten somewhere we'd never been and [...] wanted to see how far we could take this thing and still be alive.
I felt finally I could get my hands on everything in the world that didn't work.

Nothing was solved when the fight was over, but nothing mattered.