Mortality Quotes in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Yes, Oskar is a kid full of morbid trivia. This isn't unusual because his life has been defined by the death of his father. This is an example of how Oskar occupies himself with strange details to avoid the bigger emotional reality of his father's death.

Oskar's father's death is the central event of his life; he feels it defines him. As a result, he sometimes feels like he can't relate to people unless they've experienced the same level of trauma and grief. Kids who've lost a parent often feel isolated and misunderstood.

Ouch. Oskar makes this hurtful remark to his Mom. The two of them have different ways of coping with Thomas's death. Oskar doesn't seem to understand that his Mom will never forget his Dad, whether she hangs on to his material belongings or not. As a child, Oskar may need more tangible things to deal with his grief.

Even though Oskar is super clever, his youthful naïveté shines through here. Just because coffee stunts his growth doesn't mean that it extends his lifespan. The way this exchange with Mr. Black is described, it's funny how matter-of-fact Oskar is in telling him this.

This is an excerpt from the gruesome interview with a Hiroshima survivor that Oskar plays for his class—the stark testimony from a woman watching her daughter die. While girls in his class were crying, Oskar goes on to describe the physics of how people are killed and charred in an atomic explosion. Another example of how shut-down he can be: he presents this hugely emotional testimony in class, but ignores the emotion.

Oskar's obviously angry at his therapist for asking the question, and perhaps rightfully so. Oskar might eventually look back on his experience to see what he learned from it, but that's not where he's at emotionally at that moment. Oskar admits he really doesn't holler at Dr. Fein. He just wanted to. We think Dr. Fein's timing is pretty bad.

Yikes, this is dark. But a kid whose Dad died in 9/11 would use the same sort of gruesome imagery as a metaphor for death. You can see how meaningless life seems for him since his father died.

Oskar pours his heart out to his grandfather about how he's tormented by all the images of what might have happened to his father. It was the case with most of the families of 9/11 victims that they never knew how their loved ones died. No remains. Empty caskets. Just horrible possibilities to imagine and no closure. Grandpa's probably had the same thoughts about his family that was killed in Dresden.

Oskar's Dad must have been frantic and terrified in his last moments. He was probably trying to sound calm just to spare Oskar and his Mom from the terror. It's comforting to think that maybe he did come to some acceptance of his hopeless situation, but we don't know that. It's a sign of his love for his family that he tried to be calm and reassuring.

There could be a million reasons Ron didn't happen to be in the car when his wife and daughter were killed in the accident. But that doesn't stop him from having survivor guilt because he lived and they didn't. He had no role in their deaths, but you can tell in this passage that he still wonders why he didn't die. This randomness of death is something that Oskar struggles with.