Big Swiss Quotes

“Yes, people age horribly. They suffer strokes. Their bodies and brains fall apart. But the male ego? Firmly intact until the bitter end.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“I spent a lot of time alone, but I was rarely lonely because I like my own brain.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“It was a voice you could snag your sweater on, or perhaps chip one of your teeth, but it was also sweet enough to suck on, to sleep with in your mouth.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“She had trouble being in her body in general, which was why she liked to be roughed up by the elements and was always either sunburned, windblown, or damp from the rain.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“All I’m saying is that trauma doesn’t get you a lifelong get-out-of-jail-free card. It also doesn’t necessarily confer wisdom, or the right to pontificate,”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“It's incredible to me that you're still getting mileage out of your mother's suicide. You're still using it as currency, even though it has nothing to do with what you did. In fact, It's kind of psychotic that you're spending that currency on this moment. When will it run out?”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“I’m direct,” Big Swiss admitted, “because I don’t care if people like me. I distrust people-pleasers. They seem phony to me, and dangerous.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“Why not say that you made a choice, that you knew what you were doing was wrong, and that you did it anyway? Why continue coasting on your trauma? It's not a good look at your age.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“Greta considered her own behavior around red flags. Her habit was not to ignore them so much as to ingest them, a somewhat laborious mental production that involved placing them in a stockpot with butter, herbs, and mirepoix; cooking over low heat without browning; adding red meat, additional red flags, a jug of red wine; and voilà, four hours at a lazy simmer later, an extremely rich red-flag stew that she forked into her mouth every day like a fucking moron, sometimes for years on end.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“She reminded Greta of one of those exotic vegetables she was drawn to at the farmer's market but didn't know how to cook. Kohlrabi, maybe, or a Jerusalem artichoke. Not very approachable. Not sweet or overly familiar. Not easily boiled down or buttered up.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“Trauma people are almost as unbearable to me as Trump people. If you try suggesting that they let go of their suffering, their victimhood, they act retraumatized. It’s like, yes, what happened to you is shitty, I’m not denying that, but why do you keep rolling around in your own shit? If they stopped doing that for two seconds and got over themselves, even a little, they might actually become who they were meant to be.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“It takes an enormous amount of energy—and courage—to free yourself, to follow the path of transformation without abandoning yourself, without fleeing from your pain and all the loss you’ve experienced.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“Sorry is just something you take off a shelf. It means nothing to me.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“Yes. I spent a lot of time alone, but I was rarely lonely because I like my own brain.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“If everything can be explained by your trauma, then nothing is really your fault, right? You always have this convenient out. Your mother killed herself, and so that gives you permission to do whatever you want?”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“When I pick out pastries at the bakery, it sounds like I’m ordering someone’s execution.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“She recalled her favorite part about being single, about being alive, the only thing for which she experienced pure and complete gratitude as well as the existence of God and heaven, her greatest, most unfiltered joy: sleeping alone, waking up alone, not speaking before noon.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“It was late spring and everything was fragrant and in bloom: the dogwood trees, the dogs themselves, their owners. Big Swiss was a showy white flower in puffed sleeves and linen shorts. Greta, who’d peaked weeks ago, was already wilting and losing her petals.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“Although she was newly single and happier than she'd been in years, a small part of her was still ready to die, and still enjoyed telling lies.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“Desire,” Greta said. “You may not understand this, but I haven’t felt real desire in years.” “What else are you feeling?” “I’m feeling pretty gay, to be honest,” Greta said.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“The straitjacket explained her passivity, her inability to defend herself, to take action, to make plans, to dream—”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“She’d been a listener all her life and tended to surround herself with people in love with their own voices.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“the shrink diagnosed her with emotional detachment disorder, which seemed like a stretch to Greta, who preferred to think of it as “poise” on a bad day, “grace” on a good one, and, when she was feeling full of herself, “serenity.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“Well, our relationship felt like living,’ Greta said. ‘To me, anyways. I have never been more myself with anyone, including myself.’
‘You’re not yourself with yourself?’
‘Not really.’
‘But it’s hard to be with someone who simply drifts, who never searches for meaning, who just coasts along, and then wonders why she’s so powerless-’
‘Suicidal,’ Greta said, correcting her.
‘You’re telling me you want to die when my husband was almost stabbed to death by the same man who tried to kill me. Who’s the narcissist now?’
‘Me, I guess. Me, me, me.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“Sometimes I feel like we're getting somewhere," Greta said. "Other times I wonder if I'm just not that kind of person."
"Which kind?"
"The kind who gets to the bottom of things.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“anyone. OM: What do you do together? AAG: Are you familiar with the eating of the ortolan? OM: No. AAG: It’s an ancient rite of passage among French foodies. Ortolans are rare, tiny birds. The chef captures them, drowns them in Armagnac, and roasts them whole. Then the entire bird is eaten—feet first, bones included—with a linen napkin draped over the person’s head, to retain the aromas and, as the story goes, to hide from God. OM: This is what you do with Tamara? AAG: No, but that’s how I eat her pussy. OM: By drowning it in Armagnac? AAG: With a napkin over my head.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“After hearing her whole story, which had taken ten weeks to tell, the shrink diagnosed her with emotional detachment disorder, which seemed like a stretch to Greta, who preferred to think of it as “poise” on a bad day, “grace” on a good one, and, when she was feeling full of herself, “serenity.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“It takes an enormous amount of energy—and courage—to free yourself, to follow the path of transformation without abandoning yourself, without fleeing from your pain and all the loss you’ve experienced. But you need to have more compassion for yourself.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“As they approached the next intersection, an old man stepped into the street and tried hailing them like a taxi. He looked disheveled and near death, but he had a sharp whistle. Sabine ignored him completely and rolled through a stop sign. “That man seemed desperate for your attention,” Greta said. “I think he’s waiting for you to pull over.” “That’s my father,” Sabine said, and stepped on the gas. “He just wants a cigarette.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“We're not dating. Don't be disgusting,” Big Swiss said, "I love you.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss