Sarah Mlynowski · 317 pages
Rating: (5.1K votes)
“That's our story.
How we became a we.
And that's what we are these day. A we.
When you're a group that can hear each other's thoughts, the line between I and We gets kind of blurry.”
― Sarah Mlynowski, quote from Don't Even Think About It
“Normal is boring. Who wants that?”
― Sarah Mlynowski, quote from Don't Even Think About It
“He knew he was sounding a little Holden Caulfield-esque calling everyone a phony, but he really did think everyone was a phony.”
― Sarah Mlynowski, quote from Don't Even Think About It
“We were not always freaks. Sure, most of us occasionally exhibited freakish behavior. But that’s not the same thing. This is the story of how we became freaks. It’s how a group of Is became a we.”
― Sarah Mlynowski, quote from Don't Even Think About It
Sarah Mlynowski
Born place: in Montreal, Canada
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“When I first read The Rebel, this splendid line came leaping from the page like a dolphin from a wave. I memorized it instantly, and from then on Camus was my man. I wanted to write like that, in a prose that sang like poetry. I wanted to look like him. I wanted to wear a Bogart-style trench coat with the collar turned up, have an untipped Gauloise dangling from my lower lip, and die romantically in a car crash. At the time, the crash had only just happened. The wheels of the wrecked Facel Vega were practically still spinning, and at Sydney University I knew exiled French students, spiritually scarred by service in Indochina, who had met Camus in Paris: one of them claimed to have shared a girl with him. Later on, in London, I was able to arrange the trench coat and the Gauloise, although I decided to forgo the car crash until a more propitious moment. Much later, long after having realized that smoking French cigarettes was just an expensive way of inhaling nationalized industrial waste, I learned from Olivier Todd's excellent biography of Camus that the trench coat had been a gift from Arthur Koestler's wife and that the Bogart connection had been, as the academics say, no accident. Camus had wanted to look like Bogart, and Mrs. Koestler knew where to get the kit. Camus was a bit of an actor--he though, in fact, that he was a lot of an actor, although his histrionic talent was the weakest item of his theatrical equipment--and, being a bit of an actor, he was preoccupied by questions of authenticity, as truly authentic people seldom are. But under the posturing agonies about authenticity there was something better than authentic: there was something genuine. He was genuinely poetic. Being that, he could apply two tests simultaneously to his own language: the test of expressiveness, and the test of truth to life. To put it another way, he couldn't not apply them.”
― Clive James, quote from Cultural Amnesia: Necessary Memories from History and the Arts
“Dear God, I know I am a sinner. Forgive me and pardon me for waiting so long. I receive your love and salvation and ask you to live your life through me. I accept you as my Savior and resolve to live for you until you come again.’” Jacov”
― Tim LaHaye, quote from Apollyon
“Sanabalis never seemed to eat, and he deflected most of her questions about Dragon cuisine. Then again, he deflected most of her questions about Dragons, period. Which was annoying because he was one, and could in theory be authorative.”
― Michelle Sagara, quote from Cast in Silence
“What is Aunt Margaret made of? Bird bones and tissue paper, spun glass and straw.”
― Angela Carter, quote from The Magic Toyshop
“Although claiming my true identity as a child of God, I still live as though the God to whom I am returning demands an explanation. I still think about his love as conditional and about home as a place I am not yet fully sure of. While walking home, I keep entertaining doubts about whether I will be truly welcome when I get there. As I look at my spiritual journey, my long and fatiguing trip home, I see how full it is of guilt about the past and worries about the future. I realize my failures and know that I have lost the dignity of my sonship, but I am not yet able to fully believe that where my failings are great, 'grace is always greater.' Still clinging to my sense of worthlessness, I project for myself a place far below that which belongs to the son, (p. 52).”
― Henri J.M. Nouwen, quote from The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming
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