Quote

I had a love affair with books, with characters and their words. Books kept me company. When the voices of the book faded, as with the last long chord of a record, the back cover crinkling closed, I could swear I heard a door click shut.

Marya Hornbacher

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Marya Hornbacher
Age: 50
Born: 1974
Born: April 4
Author
Essayist
Journalist
Writer
Minneapolis
Minnesota
Love
Lasts
Door
Chords
Last
Record
Swear
Voice
Characters
Closed
Words
Doors
Voices
Character
Records
Cover
Chord
Back
Heard
Shut
Click
Book
Books
Affair
Clicks
Long
Company
Kept
Faded

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You can only whine for so long. Then you need to get your life back.
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We turn skeletons into goddesses and look to them as if they might teach us how not to need.
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And yet you are all that you have, so you must be enough. There is no other way.
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All of us carry around countless bags of dusty old knickknacks dated from childhood: collected resentments, long list of wounds of greater or lesser significance, glorified memories, absolute certainties that later turn out to be wrong. Humans are emotional pack rats. These bags define us.
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There is, in fact, an incredible freedom in having nothing left to lose.
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The anoretic operates under the astounding illusion that she can escape the flesh, and, by association, the realm of emotions.
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I'm a driven perfectionist, very self-critical.
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I think many people with a chronic illness would prefer not to have their chronic illness, simply because it's high maintenance.
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In truth, you like the pain. You like it because you believe you deserve it.
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And so I went through the looking glass, stepped into the netherworld, where up is down and food is greed, where convex mirrors cover the walls, where death is honor and flesh is weak. It is ever so easy to go. Harder to find your way back.
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People take the feeling of full for granted.
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I either want to be completely recovered or completely emaciated. It's the in between that I can't stand, the limbo of failure where you know that you haven't done your best at one or the other: dying or living.
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Starvation is incredibly frightening when it finally sets in with a vengeance. And when it does,you are surprised. You hadn't meant this. You say: Wait, not this. And then it sucks you under and you drown.
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All of us have theories about the world and about ourselves. We will go to great lengths to prove ourselves right because it keeps the world in our head coherent and understandable.
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After a lifetime of silence, it is difficult then to speak.
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When you're teaching creative nonfiction, it helps to have written about your life in a very open way, because you can say, 'Look, how much are you willing to risk emotionally to write? How careful can you be with the other people you're writing about?
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I began to measure things in absence instead of presence.
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When you are mad, mad like this, you don't know it. Reality is what you see. When what you see shifts, departing from anyone else's reality, it's still reality to you.
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My relationships with both my mother and father are good. We spent several difficult years hashing over the problems and the past, and worked out a fairly solid middle ground. I wouldn't say my relationship with either of them - they're no longer together - is exactly typical, but that would be difficult after all we went through.
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