unnarrator > unnarrator's Quotes

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  • #31
    J.D. Salinger
    “Against my better judgment I feel certain that somewhere very near here—the first house down the road, maybe—there's a good poet dying, but also somewhere very near here somebody's having a hilarious pint of pus taken from her lovely young body, and I can't be running back and forth forever between grief and high delight.”
    J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey


  • #32
    J.D. Salinger
    “Did you know, God damn it, that Les was all for bringing a tangerine in to you last night before he went to bed? My God. Even Bessie can't stand stories with tangerines in them. And God knows I can't. If you're going to go on with this breakdown business, I wish to hell you'd go back to college to have it. Where you're not the baby of the family. And where, God knows, nobody'll have any urges to bring you any tangerines. And where you don't keep your goddam tap shoes in the closet.”
    J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey


  • #33
    J.D. Salinger
    “If you can't, or won't, think of Seymour, then you go right ahead and call in some ignorant psychoanalyst. You just do that. You just call in some analyst who's experienced in adjusting people to the joys of television, and Life magazine every Wednesday, and European travel, and the H-bomb, and Presidential elections, and the front page of the Times, and God knows what else that's gloriously normal.”
    J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey


  • #34
    J.D. Salinger
    “His eldest sister (who modestly prefers to be identified here as a Tuckahoe homemaker) has asked me to describe him as looking like 'the blue-eyed Jewish-Irish Mohican scout who died in your arms at the roulette table at Monte Carlo.”
    J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey


  • #35
    J.D. Salinger
    “As nearly as possible in the spirit of Matthew Salinger, age one, urging a luncheon companion to accept a cool lima bean, I urge my editor, mentor and (heaven help him) closest friend, William Shawn, genius domus of The New Yorker, lover of the long shot, protector of the unprolific, defender of the hopelessly flamboyant, most
    unreasonably modest of born great artist-editors to accept this pretty skimpy-looking book.”
    J.D. Salinger


  • #36
    Andrew Solomon
    “You are constantly told in depression that your judgment is compromised, but a part of depression is that it touches cognition. That you are having a breakdown does not mean that your life isn't a mess. If there are issues you have successfully skirted or avoided for years, they come cropping back up and stare you full in the face, and one aspect of depression is a deep knowledge that the comforting doctors who assure you that your judgment is bad are wrong. You are in touch with the real terribleness of your life. You can accept rationally that later, after the medication sets in, you will be better able to deal with the terribleness, but you will not be free of it. When you are depressed, the past and future are absorbed entirely by the present moment, as in the world of a three-year-old. You cannot remember a time when you felt better, at least not clearly; and you certainly cannot imagine a future time when you will feel better.”
    Andrew Solomon, The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression


  • #37
    Andrew Solomon
    “I believe that words are strong, that they can overwhelm what we fear when fear seems more awful than life is good.”
    Andrew Solomon, The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression


  • #38
    Andrew Solomon
    “Antonin Artaud wrote on one of his drawings, "Never real and always true," and that is how depression feels. You know that it is not real, that you are someone else, and yet you know that it is absolutely true.”
    Andrew Solomon, The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression


  • #39
    Andrew Solomon
    “Since I am writing a book about depression, I am often asked in social situations to describe my own experiences, and I usually end by saying that I am on medication.
    “Still?” people ask. “But you seem fine!” To which I invariably reply that I seem fine because I am fine, and that I am fine in part because of medication.
    “So how long do you expect to go on taking this stuff?” people ask. When I say that I will be on medication indefinitely, people who have dealt calmly and sympathetically with the news of suicide attempts, catatonia, missed years of work, significant loss of body weight, and so on stare at me with alarm.
    “But it’s really bad to be on medicine that way,” they say. “Surely now you are strong enough to be able to phase out some of these drugs!” If you say to them that this is like phasing the carburetor out of your car or the buttresses out of Notre Dame, they laugh.
    “So maybe you’ll stay on a really low maintenance dose?” They ask. You explain that the level of medication you take was chosen because it normalizes the systems that can go haywire, and that a low dose of medication would be like removing half of your carburetor. You add that you have experienced almost no side effects from the medication you are taking, and that there is no evidence of negative effects of long-term medication. You say that you really don’t want to get sick again. But wellness is still, in this area, associated not with achieving control of your problem, but with discontinuation of medication.
    “Well, I sure hope you get off it sometime soon,” they say. ”
    Andrew Solomon, The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression


  • #40
    Anne Lamott
    “I thought such awful thoughts that I cannot even say them out loud because they would make Jesus want to drink gin straight out of the cat dish.”
    Anne Lamott


  • #41
    Anne Lamott
    “But you can’t get to any of these truths by sitting in a field smiling beatifically, avoiding your anger and damage and grief. Your anger and damage and grief are the way to the truth. We don’t have much truth to express unless we have gone into those rooms and closets and woods and abysses that we were told not go in to. When we have gone in and looked around for a long while, just breathing and finally taking it in – then we will be able to speak in our own voice and to stay in the present moment. And that moment is home.”
    Anne Lamott


  • #42
    David Lynch
    “My cow is not pretty, but it is pretty to me.”
    David Lynch
    tags: moo


  • #43
    David Lynch
    “There's a safety in thinking in a diner. You can have your coffee or your milkshake, and you can go off into strange dark areas, and always come back to the safety of the diner.”
    David Lynch


  • #44
    Walter Benjamin
    “The only way of knowing a person is to love them without hope.”
    Walter Benjamin


  • #45
    Emil Cioran
    “A book is a suicide postponed.”
    Emil Cioran


  • #46
    Emil Cioran
    “I try--without success--to stop finding reasons for vanity in anything. When I happen to manage it nonetheless, I feel that I no longer belong to the mortal gang. I am above everything then, above the gods themselves. Perhaps that is what death is: a sensation of great, of extreme superiority. ”
    Emil Cioran


  • #47
    Emil Cioran
    “If we could truly see ourselves the way others see us we'd disappear on the spot.”
    Emil Cioran


  • #48
    Craig Ferguson
    “If I start giving people what they like I'll turn into one of them and I don't want to be one of them I want to be one of me.”
    Craig Ferguson


  • #49
    Jon Davis
    “Of the many forms that silence takes, the most memorable is the dry husk of the cicada.”
    Jon Davis


  • #50
    Sarah Kane
    “I am an emotional plagiarist, stealing other people's pain, subsuming it into my own until I can't remember whose it is any more.”
    Sarah Kane
    tags: crave


  • #51
    Sarah Kane
    “- I won't be able to think. I won't be able to work.
    - Nothing will interfere with your work like suicide.
    (Silence)
    - I dreamt that I went to the doctor's and she gave me eight minutes to live. I'd been sitting in the fucking waiting room for half an hour.
    (A long silence)
    - Okay, let's do it, let's do the drugs, let's do the chemical lobotomy, let's shut down the higher functions of my brain and perhaps I'll be a bit more fucking capable of living.
    Let's do it.”
    Sarah Kane, 4.48 Psychosis


  • #52
    Sarah Kane
    “Have you made any plans?
    Take an overdose, slash my wrists then hang myself.
    All those things together?
    It couldn't possibly be misconstrued as a cry for help.”
    Sarah Kane, 4.48 Psychosis


  • #53
    Sarah Kane
    “Once you have perceived that life is very cruel, the only response is to live with as much humanity, humour and freedom as you can.”
    Sarah Kane


  • #54
    Louisa May Alcott
    “She is too fond of books, and it has turned her brain.”
    Louisa May Alcott, Work: A Story of Experience


  • #55
    Anaïs Nin
    “I reserve the right to love many different people at once, and to change my prince often.”
    Anaïs Nin


  • #56
    Virginia Woolf
    “Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigues, I have had my vision.”
    Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse


  • #57
    Flannery O'Connor
    “She was a talker, wasn't she?" Bobby Lee said, sliding down the ditch with a yodel.

    "She would of been a good woman," The Misfit said, "if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life."

    "Some fun!" Bobby Lee said.

    "Shut up, Bobby Lee," The Misfit said. "It's no real pleasure in life.”
    Flannery O'Connor, A Good Man is Hard to Find and Other Stories


  • #58
    Virginia Woolf
    “I told you in the course of this paper that Shakespeare had a sister; but do not look for her in Sir Sidney Lee’s life of the poet. She died young—alas, she never wrote a word. She lies buried where the omnibuses now stop, opposite the Elephant and Castle. Now my belief is that this poet who never wrote a word and was buried at the cross–roads still lives. She lives in you and in me, and in many other women who are not here to–night, for they are washing up the dishes and putting the children to bed. But she lives; for great poets do not die; they are continuing presences; they need only the opportunity to walk among us in the flesh. This opportunity, as I think, it is now coming within your power to give her. For my belief is that if we live another century or so—I am talking of the common life which is the real life and not of the little separate lives which we live as individuals—and have five hundred a year each of us and rooms of our own; if we have the habit of freedom and the courage to write exactly what we think; if we escape a little from the common sitting–room and see human beings not always in their relation to each other but in relation to reality; and the sky. too, and the trees or whatever it may be in themselves; if we look past Milton’s bogey, for no human being should shut out the view; if we face the fact, for it is a fact, that there is no arm to cling to, but that we go alone and that our relation is to the world of reality and not only to the world of men and women, then the opportunity will come and the dead poet who was Shakespeare’s sister will put on the body which she has so often laid down. Drawing her life from the lives of the unknown who were her forerunners, as her brother did before her, she will be born. As for her coming without that preparation, without that effort on our part, without that determination that when she is born again she shall find it possible to live and write her poetry, that we cannot expect, for that would he impossible. But I maintain that she would come if we worked for her, and that so to work, even in poverty and obscurity, is worth while.”
    Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own


  • #59
    Virginia Woolf
    “Literature is strewn with the wreckage of those who have minded beyond reason the opinion of others.”
    Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own


  • #60
    Thomas Hardy
    “Somebody might have come along that way who would have asked him his trouble, and might have cheered him by saying that his notions were further advanced than those of his grammarian. But nobody did come, because nobody does; and under the crushing recognition of his gigantic error Jude continued to wish himself out of the world.”
    Thomas Hardy, Jude the Obscure




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