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Not everything has a happy ending, and not everything has an ending. Some things just kind of dribble away or cut off abruptly.
Susanna Kaysen
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Susanna Kaysen
Age: 76
Born: 1948
Born: November 11
Author
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Cambridge
Massachusetts
Away
Everything
Kind
Things
Abruptly
Dribble
Ending
Cutting
Happy
More quotes by Susanna Kaysen
I told her once I wasn’t good at anything. She told me survival is a talent.
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Every window in Alcatraz has a view of San Francisco.
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I had an inspiration once. I woke up one morning and I knew that it was my task to swallow fifty asprin.It was my task:my job for the day.-17 Girl Interrupted
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There is thought, and then there is thinking about thoughts, and they don't feel the same.
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An observer can't tell if a person is silent and still because inner life has stalled or because inner life is transfixingly busy.
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Was insanity just a matter of dropping the act?
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I know what it's like to want to die. How it hurts to smile. How you try to fit in but you can't. You hurt yourself on the outside to try to kill the thing on the inside.
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It is easy to slip into a parallel universe. There are so many of them: worlds of the insane, the criminal, the crippled, the dying, perhaps of the dead as well. These worlds exist alongside this world and resemble it, but are not in it.
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For many of us, the hospital was as much a refuge as it was a prison. Though we were cut off from the world and all the trouble we enjoyed stirring up out there, we were also cut off from the demands and expectations that had driven us crazy. What could be expected of us now that we were stowed away in a loony bin?
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In a strange way we were free. We'd reached the end of the line. We had nothing more to lose. Our privacy, our liberty, our dignity: all of this was gone and we were stripped down to the bare bones of our selves
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But when they were done, I wondered if there would be a next time. I felt good. I wasn’t dead, yet something was dead. Perhaps I’d managed my peculiar objective of partial suicide. I was lighter, airier than I’d been in years.
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Scar tissue has no character. It's not like skin. It doesn't show age or illness or pallor or tan. It has no pores, no hair, no wrinkles. It's like a slip cover. It shields and disguises what's beneath. That's why we grow it we have something to hide.
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Maybe I was just flirting with madness the way I flirted with my teachers and my classmates.
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As far as I could see, life demanded skills I didn't have.
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I'm your mind, it claims. You can't parse ME into dendrites and synapses
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Smile and the world smiles with you, cry and you cry alone.
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Light like this does not exist, but we wish it did. We wish the sun could make us young and beautiful, we wish our clothes could glisten and ripple against our skins, most of all, we wish that everyone we knew could be brightened simply by our looking at them, as are the maid with the letter and the soldier with the hat.
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A successful suicide demands good organization and a cool head, both of which are usually incompatible with the suicidal state of mind.
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All my integrity seemed to lie in saying No.
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I am not a nurse escorting six lunatics to the ice cream parlor.
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