"If you aren't the woman I think you are, then this isn't the world I thought it was."
— Arthur Golden (Memoirs of a Geisha)

""I was just thinking... isn't it lucky that we decided to become co-editors? If one takes a blow to the head, the other can fill in. If the other's lung spontaneoulsy collapses, the one can fill in. It's a perfect system once you think about it."
~Will Landsman"
— Gabrielle Zevin (Memoirs of a Teenage Amnesiac)

"As long as I'm between home and the clinic I do all right. But out in the real world, I feel like prey. I slink around and can feel people looking at me. I feel their eyes boring into me. I feel what they're thinking: Watch her, she could go off anytime. But within the walls of my farmhouse, I climb out of the protective shell, my arms slowly rise like a phoenix, and I dance, wail, fly around the room and then collapse, crying, in front of my mirrors. I start to see in the mirror what it is I really look like, instead of what I was trained from the womb to see. I do not write about it. I do not talk about it. I do not know what I am doing. But just like a baby bird, I am blinking once-sealed eyes and unfolding damp wings. I cannot articulate the past. A part of me knows it's there, lurking, just behind what I can acknowledge, but it is not within sight. And I am keeping it that way. "
— Julie Gregory (Sickened: The Memoir of a Munchausen by Proxy Childhood)

""Oh I'm sure you're right," Auntie said. "Probably she's just as you say. But she looks to me like a very clever girl, and adaptable; you can see that from the shape of her ears."


Memoirs of a Geisha"
— Arthur Golden

"Memoir today is like one big game of misery poker: The more outlandish, outrageous, or just plain out-there the recounted life, the more likely the book is to attract the attention of reviewers, talk-show bookers, and, ultimately, the public.
"
— Ben Yagoda writing for Slate

""Love stories are written in millimeters and milliseconds with a fast, dull pencil whose marks you can barely see. They are written in miles and eons with a chisel on the side of a mountaintop.""
— Gabrielle Zevin (Memoirs of a Teenage Amnesiac)