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And why had Deb's last boyfriend dumped her? I dumped him. Maybe you didn't French-kiss him enough. I promise you that wasn't it. Tell me how many times a day you kissed, and I'll say if it was enough. Four hundred. Not enough.
Miranda July
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Miranda July
Age: 50
Born: 1974
Born: February 15
Actor
Artist
Film Actor
Film Director
Musician
Screenwriter
Writer
Barre
Vermont
Miranda J. Grossinger
Tell
Promise
Didn
Hundred
Enough
Wasn
Dumped
Many
Maybe
Kissed
Four
Boyfriend
Lasts
French
Last
Kiss
Times
Kissing
More quotes by Miranda July
I wish there were a class where we could just keep going around the circle. around and around, until we had finally said everything about ourselves.
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This person realizes that staying home means blowing off everyone this person has ever known. But the desire to stay in is very strong. This person wants to run a bath and then read in bed.
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Thus far, everything I've made has come out of my really feeling it, out of the fire of my life.
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The job of the artist is to point at things.
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Don't wait to be sure. Move, move, move.
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We come from long lines of people destined never to meet.
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That day I carried the dream around like a full glass of water, moving gracefully so I would not lose any of it.
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If you were wise enough to know that this life would consist mostly of letting go of things you wanted, then why not get good at the letting go, rather than the trying to have?
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I didn't have any vices before the Internet. There are a lot of cracks in the day, moments where you don't know what to do next, so you have a little hole where you look at your phone. You want something that will mean you're not alone in that moment.
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I had a joint once and I didn't feel right for a whole year
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There was nothing in this world that was not a con, suddenly I understood this. Nothing really mattered, and nothing could be lost.
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There's always the sense that you should strike while the iron's hot and while there are all these opportunities, but that's not the way I get ideas. It has to be more organic, building up through living and through experiencing things.
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She never inquired, but she never recoiled, either. This is a quality that I look for in a person, not recoiling.
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Would she understand that time had stopped while she was gone.
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I was going to die and it was taking forever.
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Maybe that's why people take pictures of themselves, to avoid being described.
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I don't tally the world, asking, Would this annoy you? Would this annoy you? That's so far removed from where I'm at when I'm in the trenches struggling with how to express things that I don't fully understand myself.
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I nodded, pretending I was relaxed. I watched the sunlight sparkling on the water and practiced mind-body integration for a few seconds by quietly hyperventilating.
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He breathed out the bitter air that makes women doubt everything, and I breathed it in, as I had always done. I expelled my dust, the powder of everything I had destroyed with doubt, and he pulled it into his lungs.
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I'm totally not kidding. Life is too short. This is all too hard to do to actually be kidding about the whole thing.
Miranda July