How Should a Person Be?: A Novel from Life

by Sheila Heti

I was always watching to see what they were going to do in any situation, so I could do it too. I was always listening to their answers, so if I liked them, I could make them my answers too.

They like me for who I am, and I would rather be liked for who I appear to be, and for who I appear to be, to be who I am.

We tried not to smile, for smiling only encourages men to bore you and waste your time.

Women always have to confirm with each other, even after so many years: We are still all right.

It has long been known to me that certain objects want you as much as you want them.

Most people live their entire lives with their clothes on, and even if they wanted to, couldn’t take them off. Then there are those who cannot put them on. They are the ones who live their lives not just as people but as examples of people. They are destined to expose every part of themselves, so the rest of us can know what it means to be a human.

I want more than to appear sufficiently cool in my own eyes—though this would be admitting that all my vanity and primping has been a waste.

What was so crazy about wanting to be the human ideal?

If there can be no escape from who I am, then I ought to reach my end honestly, able to tell myself, at least, that I have lived it with all of my being, making choices and deciding, walking the whole way.

that for all of our fears and all of our certainty, the bonds that unite us will remain a secret from us, always.

i guess i have only ever solved my personal problems in uncomfortable ways.