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It's very weird to succeed at thirty-nine years old and realize that in the midst of your failure, you were slowly building the life that you wanted anyway.

Alice Sebold

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Alice Sebold
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: September 6
Novelist
Writer
Madison
Wisconsin
Realizing
Thirty
Wanted
Anyway
Years
Weird
Life
Nine
Succeed
Failure
Realize
Slowly
Building
Midst

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She liked to imagine that when she passed the world looked after her, but she also knew how anonymous she was.
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To transform experience and thought into language and narrative - that is beautiful even if that beauty is in brokenness.
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In my 20s, I railed against anything 'spiritual', I thought it was all crap.
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You save yourself or you remain unsaved.
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You could not be filled with hate and be beautiful. Like any other girl, I wanted to be beautiful. But I was filled with hate.
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I don't do much public speaking. I did a lot of stuff for Bones, and then ended up having said yes to a lot of things that kept me on the road for a while for that, but then I pretty much stopped. I'm touring for this book, but when the tour is done, that'll be the end of it.
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I have always felt extremely weird. But I am very happy with my weirdnesses, and I want other people to be very happy with theirs.
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Each time I told my story, I lost a bit, the smallest drop of pain. It was that day that I knew I wanted to tell the story of my family. Because horror on Earth is real and it is every day. It is like a flower or like the sun it cannot be contained.
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I missed her then but it was an odd sort of missing because by then, I knew the meaning of forever.
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One thing about failing repeatedly: If you're still doing it after you've failed that much, you really mean it.
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I left my mark on that man.
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Because horror on Earth is real and it is every day. It is like a flower or like the sun it cannot be contained.
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I had always been in love with him. I counted the lashes of each closed eye. He had been my almost, my might have been, and I did not want to leave him
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Loss could be used as a measure of beauty in a woman.
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She didn't even have to smile, and she rarely did outside her house--it was the eyes, her dancer's carriage, the way she seemed to deliberate over the smallest movement of her body.
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People grow up by living.
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He took the hat from my mouth. ''Tell me you love me'', he said. Gently I did. The end came anyway
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I was like I was in science class: I was curious.
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These things, she felt, were not to be passed around like disingenuous party favors. She kept an honor code with her journals and her poems. 'Inside, inside,' she would whisper quietly to herself when she felt the urge to tell.
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I have never been shy about listening to the input of others and weighing it seriously.
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