Susan Juby Quotes

I'm already in the late stages of advanced detachment where my mother is concerned. With a little practice I could feel that way about everyone.

Wetting one's pants is no kind of self-esteem builder.

Can you dance?
Of course, I said, even though I can't really. I think enthusiasm counts for a lot in dancing and in life.

I am strong. And I am stylish beyond all measure.

Allow me to leave you with a final thought:
So are you.

With love,
Charlie Dean.

There are truths found in books or films when some writer puts exactly the right words together and it's like their pen turned sword and pierced you right through the heart.

Measuring someone is borderline invasive. You have to touch them and record their physical presence in the world. It's a pretty specific way to understand someone.

My life is an issue in my life.

I will pretend I do not have those feelings and eventually they will die from neglect.

Our families are often the thing that keep us stuck,

If you rock the boat in a fragile family, the concern is that everyone will drown. Hmmm,

If you start looking up, they start asking questions.

When you tell a story, you shape the truth.

I debated whether to tell them I had long since abandoned my writing career and moved into radishes and fraud, but decided the timing was wrong.

I hate the way kids want all the attention. It's like I'm not even there when there's a baby in the room.

Sylvia, on the other hand, looks like she eats stress as an amuse-bouche and turns problems into cocktails.

If the facts don't fit your theory, just find some new facts.

I believe the technical term is "space cadet." But she is the kind of space cadet many people aspire to be. My sister is fully alive to each moment and each observation.

People never like to talk about their slower relatives. I got a cousin, twice removed, got webs between his toes, ain't said one word his whole life. You never hear about him in the family newsletter that goes around every Christmas. Hell, nobody mentions me, either, if it comes to that. Families is funny about who they advertise.

She is, like anyone worth knowing, many things at once.

It seemed a little risky, enjoying something so ... fun, but I couldn't help it.

Got anything to eat?" I asked.

"You know where the gas station is," said my incredibly nurturing and maternal mother.

Maybe it's an artistic genius thing. People who go so deep inside themselves, especially when they're working, that they seem like sleepwalkers when they emerge. Traces of unconsciousness seem to cling to them, lending them an otherworldly sheen.

It's funny how you can be all alone and in danger and then a minute later feel totally safe, like you've never been lonely before.

When we reached the lobby outside the office, moving like a pair of power walkers
no running in the halls of Green Pastures because there was too much chance of knocking over one of the many ethereal, artistic types wandering around in hip glasses with the wrong prescription ... (39)

We got up and smiled at each other. His eyes were lovely, and I was reminded of a line in a book I read once, that God exists in the spaces between people.

Good luck with that, I said. Because seriously. The fuck? Strawberry social? Did I somehow move onto the set of the remake of Little House on the Prairie?

It's been a pretty tough day," he said. "No sense making it worse with a salad.

There is nothing to be gained by trying to change reality. I know this. Completely. And yet. And. Yet.

Well, at least I can spare myself the ordeal of a whole battery of personality tests. My personality is poor; that much is clear.

I don't do effortless myself, but I like it in other people.

She's extremely un-suburban and charismatic and has this way of making you feel you're the only thing standing between her and death due to boredom.

I am not a people person.

I haven't been that happy since I became conscious for the first time, you know, when I became aware of myself and got so uncomfortable and everything.

Much as I usually dislike nice, positive people, I have to admit that Margaret isn't bad.

I knew he'd get left behind when the Rapture came due to his swearing and probably also for having long hair and tight pants.

Enthusiasm isn't really my thing.

As you know, there are several classes of truth. There are the truths that pour out on confessional blogs and YouTube channels. There are the supposed truths exposed in gossip magazines and on reality television, which everyone knows are just lies in truth clothing. Then there are the truths that show themselves only under ideal circumstances: like when you are talking deep into the night with a friend and you tell each other things you would never say if your defenses weren't broken down by salty snacks, sugary beverages, darkness, and a flood of words. There are the truths found in books or films when some writer puts exactly the right words together and it's like their pen turned sword and pierced you right through the heart. Truths like those are rare and getting rarer.

To discuss schoolwork voluntarily would violate the agreement I have with my parents that I will be the biggest disappointment who ever lived.

Maybe careers aren't something you can really plan for. They just sort of happen, like brown eyes or flat feet. I took one of those career aptitude tests last year, and it showed that I should be a flight attendant or a seamstress. Not a fashion designer or anything, mind you, but a sweatshop worker. Apparently stewardesses and sweatshop workers and I enjoy a lot of the same interests and activities.

I want to ask someone the truth, I think truth is what has been missing in my life. Well, it's one of the things that has been missing, along with a sense of purpose and positive self-esteem.

It must be amazing to end each day consumed with something other than disappointment at yourself and the world.

I'm starting to think that pure truth is impossible, and that all narrators and all people are at least a little unreliable.

Actual artists, and despite their reputation for chaos, most artists keep their supplies and work spaces scrupulously tidy. It's the personal lives that get messy. Dusk,

She was a woman in her thirties with sun-damaged skin and an opt-out approach to fashion.