Ashley > Ashley's Quotes

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  • #301
    Janet Fitch
    “The stupid things you say in the rain, that can't ever be washed away.”
    Janet Fitch, Paint it Black

  • #302
    Janet Fitch
    “These people picked you up and played with you and then left you lying in the rain”
    Janet Fitch, Paint it Black

  • #303
    Janet Fitch
    “But that was the thing about zero. Its weakness. Even if zero had taken over the entire universe, the biggest fascist of all, one tiny gesture could deny it. One footprint, one atom. You didn't have to be a genius. You didn't even have to know that was what you were doing. You made a mark. You changed something. It said, "A human being passed here." And changed zero to one. ”
    Janet Fitch, Paint it Black

  • #304
    Janet Fitch
    “At every moment, each instrument knew what to play. Its little bit. But none could see the whole thing like this, all at once, only its own part. Just like life. Each person was like a line of music, but nobody knew what the symphony sounded like. Only the conductor had the whole score.”
    Janet Fitch, Paint it Black

  • #305
    Janet Fitch
    “It wasn't awful to be dead. The stillness would almost be a relief. She wouldn't want pain, she wouldn't want to be wounded or mutilated. She could never shoot herself or jump off a building. But being dead wasn't unthinkable.”
    Janet Fitch, Paint it Black

  • #306
    Janet Fitch
    “I decided that if I was never going to sell anything as long as I lived, I might as well do what I want to do 'cause then at least I would've done what I wanted to do in life. What's that worth?”
    Janet Fitch

  • #307
    Janet Fitch
    “Remember...we don't see objects, we see light. [...] Light can do anything water can do--flow, wash, trickle. It can do anything an artist can do--paint, burnish, carve. Candlelight falls, licks a face. There is always light in a room.”
    Janet Fitch

  • #308
    Marya Hornbacher
    “You never come back, not all the way. Always there is an odd distance between you and the people you love and the people you meet, a barrier thin as the glass of a mirror, you never come all the way out of the mirror; you stand, for the rest of your life, with one foot in this world and no one in another, where everything is upside down and backward and sad.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #309
    Marya Hornbacher
    “We turn skeletons into goddesses and look to them as if they might teach us how not to need.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #310
    Marya Hornbacher
    “I wanted to kill the me underneath. That fact haunted my days and nights. When you realize you hate yourself so much, when you realize that you cannot stand who you are, and this deep spite has been the motivation behind your behavior for many years, your brain can’t quite deal with it. It will try very hard to avoid that realization; it will try, in a last-ditch effort to keep your remaining parts alive, to remake the rest of you. This is, I believe, different from the suicidal wish of those who are in so much pain that death feels like relief, different from the suicide I would later attempt, trying to escape that pain. This is a wish to murder yourself; the connotation of kill is too mild. This is a belief that you deserve slow torture, violent death.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #311
    Marya Hornbacher
    “You begin to forget what it means to live. You forget things. You forget that you used to feel all right. You forget what it means to feel all right because you feel like shit all the time, and you can't remember what it was like before. People take the feeling of full for granted. They take for granted the feeling of steadiness, of hands that do not shake, heads that do not ache, throats not raw with bile and small rips of fingernails forced to haste to the gag spot. Stomachs that do not begin to wake up in the night, calves and thighs knotting in muscles that are beginning to eat away at themselves. they may or may not be awakened at night by their own inexplicable sobs.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #312
    Marya Hornbacher
    “And so I went through the looking glass, stepped into the netherworld, where up is down and food is greed, where convex mirrors cover the walls, where death is honor and flesh is weak. It is ever so easy to go. Harder to find your way back.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #313
    Marya Hornbacher
    “Never, never underestimate the power of desire. If you want to live badly enough, you can live. The great question, at least for me, was: How do I decide I want to live?”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #314
    Marya Hornbacher
    “This is the weird aftermath, when it is not exactly over, and yet you have given it up. You go back and forth in your head, often, about giving it up. It’s hard to understand, when you are sitting there in your chair, having breakfast or whatever, that giving it up is stronger than holding on, that “letting yourself go” could mean you have succeeded rather than failed. You eat your goddamn Cheerios and bicker with the bitch in your head that keeps telling you you’re fat and weak: Shut up, you say, I’m busy, leave me alone. When she leaves you alone, there’s a silence and a solitude that will take some getting used to. You will miss her sometimes...There is, in the end, the letting go.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #315
    Kahlil Gibran
    “And when you crush an apple with your teeth, say to it in your heart:

    Your seeds shall live in my body,
    And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart,
    And your fragrance shall be my breath,
    And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons.”
    Kahlil Gibran

  • #316
    “The fear of an unknown never resolves, because the unknown expands infinitely outward, leaving you to cling pitifully to any small shelter of the known: a cracker has twelve calories; the skin, when cut, bleeds.”
    Caroline Kettlewell, Skin Game

  • #317
    Julia Cameron
    “Artistic anorexia & sexual avoidance have the same root fears – fear of intimacy, fear of exposure, fear of failure”.”
    Julia Cameron, The Vein of Gold: A Journey to Your Creative Heart

  • #318
    Portia de Rossi
    “True nobility isn't about being better than anyone else; it's about being better than you used to be.”
    Portia de Rossi, Unbearable Lightness: A Story of Loss and Gain

  • #319
    Portia de Rossi
    “in other words, accept yourself. love your body the way it is and feel grateful towards it. most importantly, in order to find real happiness, you must learn to love yourself for the totality of who you are and not just what you look like”
    Portia de Rossi, Unbearable Lightness: A Story of Loss and Gain

  • #320
    Emilie Autumn
    “And, what's more, this 'precious' body, the very same that is hooted and honked at, demeaned both in daily life as well as in ever existing form of media, harrassed, molested, raped, and, if all that wasn't enough, is forever poked and prodded and weighed and constantly wrong for eating too much, eating too little, a million details which all point to the solitary girl, to EVERY solitary girl, and say: Destroy yourself.”
    Emilie Autumn, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls

  • #321
    Geneen Roth
    “When you believe without knowing you believe that you are damaged at your core, you also believe that you need to hide that damage for anyone to love you. You walk around ashamed of being yourself. You try hard to make up for the way you look, walk, feel. Decisions are agonizing because if you, the person who makes the decision, is damaged, then how can you trust what you decide? You doubt your own impulses so you become masterful at looking outside yourself for comfort. You become an expert at finding experts and programs, at striving and trying hard and then harder to change yourself, but this process only reaffirms what you already believe about yourself -- that your needs and choices cannot be trusted, and left to your own devices you are out of control (p.82-83)”
    Geneen Roth, Women, Food and God: An Unexpected Path to Almost Everything

  • #322
    Geneen Roth
    “. . . hell is wanting to be somewhere different from where you are. Being one place and wanting to be somewhere else . . . . Wanting life to be different from what it is. That's also called leaving without leaving. Dying before you die. It's as if there is a part of you that so rails against being shattered by love that you shatter yourself first. (p. 44)”
    Geneen Roth, Women, Food and God: An Unexpected Path to Almost Everything

  • #323
    Emilie Autumn
    “You," he said, "are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain.”
    Emilie Autumn, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls

  • #324
    Emilie Autumn
    “I'm not stupid. I know exactly what's going on, and I'm not fighting it. If I have to go through this, I will glean from it any small benefit I can receive. I will not fight this. Bring it on. Bring on the cure. Bring on the fucking happy. I'm committed.”
    Emilie Autumn, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls

  • #325
    Emilie Autumn
    “What's the big fucking deal? Lots of amazing people have committed suicide, and they turned out alright.”
    Emilie Autumn, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls

  • #326
    Geneen Roth
    “You are not a mistake. You are not a problem to be solved. But you won't discover this until you are willing to stop banging your head against the wall of shaming and caging and fearing yourself. (p. 84)”
    Geneen Roth, Women, Food and God: An Unexpected Path to Almost Everything

  • #327
    Geneen Roth
    “Freedom from obsession is not about something you do; it's about knowing who you are. It's about recognizing what sustains you and what exhausts you. What you love and what you think you love because you believe you can't have it. (p. 163)”
    Geneen Roth, Women, Food and God: An Unexpected Path to Almost Everything

  • #328
    Gabrielle Zevin
    “You forget all of it anyway. First, you forget everything you learned-the dates of the Hay-Herran Treaty and Pythagorean Theorem. You especially forget everything you didn't really learn, but just memorized the night before. You forget the names of all but one or two of your teachers, and eventually you'll forget those, too. You forget your junior class schedule and where you used to sit and your best friend's home phone number and the lyrics to that song you must have played a million times. For me, it was something by Simon & Garfunkel. Who knows what it will be for you? And eventually, but slowly, oh so slowly, you forget your humiliations-even the ones that seemed indelible just fade away. You forget who was cool and who was not, who was pretty, smart, athletic, and not. Who went to a good college. Who threw the best parties Who could get you pot. You forget all of them. Even the ones you said you loved, and even the ones you actually did. They're the last to go. And then once you've forgotten enough, you love someone else.”
    Gabrielle Zevin, Memoirs of a Teenage Amnesiac

  • #329
    Gabrielle Zevin
    “Above all, mine is a love story. Unlike most love stories, this one involves chance, gravity, a dash of head trauma. It began with a coin toss. The coin came up tails. I was heads. Had it gone my way, there might not be a story at all. Just a chapter, or a sentence in a book whose greater theme had yet to be determined. Maybe this chapter would've had the faintest whisper of love about it. But maybe not. Sometimes, a girl needs to lose.”
    Gabrielle Zevin, Memoirs of a Teenage Amnesiac

  • #330
    Gabrielle Zevin
    “Our moment had passed somehow. I was different. He was, too. Without our “madness” to unite us, there wasn’t anything much there. Or maybe too much had happened in too short a time. It’s like when you take a trip with someone you don’t know very well. Sometimes you can get very close very quickly, but then after the trip is over, you realise all that was a false sort of closeness. An intimacy based on the trip more than the travellers, if that makes any sense.”
    Gabrielle Zevin, Memoirs of a Teenage Amnesiac



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