Lilly > Lilly's Quotes

Showing 1-30 of 326
« previous 1 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
sort by

  • #1
    Marya Hornbacher
    “There is, in the end, the letting go.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #2
    Marya Hornbacher
    “The bragging was the worst. I hear this in schools all over the country, in cafés and restaurants, in bars, on the Internet, for Pete's sake, on buses, on sidewalks: Women yammering about how little they eat. Oh, I'm Starving, I haven't eaten all day, I think I'll have a great big piece of lettuce, I'm not hungry, I don't like to eat in the morning (in the afternoon, in the evening, on Tuesdays, when my nails aren't painted, when my shin hurts, when it's raining, when it's sunny, on national holidays, after or before 2 A.M.). I heard it in the hospital, that terrible ironic whine from the chapped lips of women starving to death, But I'm not hun-greeee. To hear women tell it, we're never hungry. We live on little Ms. Pac-Man power pellets. Food makes us queasy, food makes us itchy, food is too messy, all I really like to eat is celery. To hear women tell it we're ethereal beings who eat with the greatest distaste, scraping scraps of food between our teeth with our upper lips curled.

    For your edification, it's bullshit.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #3
    Marya Hornbacher
    “I was perpetually grief-stricken when I finished a book, and would slide down from my sitting position on the bed, put my cheek on the pillow and sigh for a long time. It seemed there would never be another book. It was all over, the book was dead. It lay in its bent cover by my hand. What was the use? Why bother dragging the weight of my small body down to dinner? Why move? Why breathe? The book had left me, and there was no reason to go on.”
    Marya Hornbacher

  • #4
    Marya Hornbacher
    “At a certain point, an eating disorder ceases to be "about" any one thing. It stops being about your family, or your culture. Very simply, it becomes an addiction not only emotionally but also chemically. And it becomes a crusade. If you are honest with yourself, you stop believing that anyone could "make" you do such a thing— who, your parents? They want you to starve to death? Not likely. Your environment? It couldn't careless. You are also doing it for yourself. It is a shortcut to something many women without an eating disorder have gotten: respect and power. It is a visual temper tantrum. You are making an ineffective statement about this and that, a grotesque, self-defeating mockery of cultural standards of beauty, societal misogyny. It is a blow to your parents, at whom you are pissed.
    And it is so very seductive. It is so reassuring, so all-consuming, so entertaining.
    At first.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #5
    Marya Hornbacher
    “Madness strips you of memory and leaves you scrabbling around on the floor of your brain for the snatches and snippets of what happened, what was said, and when.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Madness: A Bipolar Life

  • #6
    Marya Hornbacher
    “And yet you are all that you have, so you must be enough. There is no other way.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #7
    Marya Hornbacher
    “My bones are brittle, my heart weak and erratic, my esophagus and stomach riddled with ulcers, my reproductive system shot, my immune system useless... I'm not going to have a happy ending.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #8
    Marya Hornbacher
    “There are women in my closet, hanging on the hangers. a different woman for each suit, each dress, each pair of shoes. I hoard clothes. My makeup spills from the bathroom drawers, and there are different women for different lipsticks.”
    marya hornbacher

  • #9
    Marya Hornbacher
    “For a long time I believed the opposite of passion was death. I was wrong. Passion and death are implicit, one in the other. Past the border of a fiery life lies the netherworld. I can trace this road, which took me through places so hot the very air burned the lungs. I did not turn back. I pressed on, and eventually passed over the border, beyond which lies a place that is wordless and cold, so cold that it, like mercury, burns a freezing blue flame.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #10
    Marya Hornbacher
    “The term “starvation diet” refers to 900 calories a day. I was on one-third of a starvation diet. What do you call that? One word that comes to my mind: “suicide.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #11
    Marya Hornbacher
    “In her presence, I was reminded again of why I was an anoretic: fear. Of my needs, for food, for sleep, for touch, for simple conversation, for human contact, for love. I was an anoretic because I was afraid of being human. Implicit in human contact is the exposure of the self, the interaction of the selves. The self I'd had, once upon a time, was too much. Now there was no self at all. I was a blank.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #12
    Marya Hornbacher
    “I have never been normal about my body. It has always seemed to me a strange and foreign entity. I don't know that there was ever a time when I was not conscious of it. As far back as I can think, I was aware of my own corporeality, my physical imposition on space.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #13
    Marya Hornbacher
    “We take a certain sick pride in the fact that we know the caloric and fat content of every possible food on the planet, and have an understandable disdain for nutritionists who attempt to tell us the caloric content of anything, when we are the gods of caloric content and have delusions of nutritional omniscience, when said nutritionist will attempt to explain that the average woman needs a daily diet of 2,000 or more calories when we ourselves have been doing JUST FUCKING FINE on 500.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #14
    Marya Hornbacher
    “No matter how thin you get, no matter how short you cut your hair, it's still going to be you underneath.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #15
    Marya Hornbacher
    “You never come back, not all the way. Always there is an odd distance between you and the people you love and the people you meet, a barrier thin as the glass of a mirror, you never come all the way out of the mirror; you stand, for the rest of your life, with one foot in this world and no one in another, where everything is upside down and backward and sad.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #16
    Marya Hornbacher
    “We turn skeletons into goddesses and look to them as if they might teach us how not to need.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #17
    Marya Hornbacher
    “There is, in fact, an incredible freedom in having nothing left to lose.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #18
    Marya Hornbacher
    “Soon madness has worn you down. It’s easier to do what it says than argue. In this way, it takes over your mind. You no longer know where it ends and you begin. You believe anything it says. You do what it tells you, no matter how extreme or absurd. If it says you’re worthless, you agree. You plead for it to stop. You promise to behave. You are on your knees before it, and it laughs.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Madness: A Bipolar Life

  • #19
    Marya Hornbacher
    “You begin to forget what it means to live. You forget things. You forget that you used to feel all right. You forget what it means to feel all right because you feel like shit all the time, and you can't remember what it was like before. People take the feeling of full for granted. They take for granted the feeling of steadiness, of hands that do not shake, heads that do not ache, throats not raw with bile and small rips of fingernails forced to haste to the gag spot. Stomachs that do not begin to wake up in the night, calves and thighs knotting in muscles that are beginning to eat away at themselves. they may or may not be awakened at night by their own inexplicable sobs.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #20
    Marya Hornbacher
    “I do not remember very many things from the inside out. I do not remember what it felt like to touch things, or how bathwater traveled over my skin. I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, or put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #21
    Marya Hornbacher
    “Never, never underestimate the power of desire. If you want to live badly enough, you can live. The great question, at least for me, was: How do I decide I want to live?”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #22
    Marya Hornbacher
    “It is not a sudden leap from sick to well. It is a slow, strange meander from sick to mostly well. The misconception that eating disorders are a medical disease in the traditional sense is not helpful here. There is no 'cure'. A pill will not fix it, though it may help. Ditto therapy, ditto food, ditto endless support from family and friends. You fix it yourself. It is the hardest thing that I have ever done, and I found myself stronger for doing it. Much stronger.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #23
    Marya Hornbacher
    “I didn't particularly want to live much longer than that. Life seemed rather daunting. It seems so to me even now. Life seemed too long a time to have to stick around, a huge span of years through which one would be require to tap-dance and smile and be Great! and be Happy! and be Amazing! and be Precious! I was tired of my life by the time I was sixteen. I was tired of being too much, too intense, too manic. I was tired of people, and I was incredibly tired of myself. I wanted to do whatever Amazing Thing I was expected to do— it might be pointed out that these were my expectations, mine alone— and be done with it. Go to sleep.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #24
    Marya Hornbacher
    “This is the weird aftermath, when it is not exactly over, and yet you have given it up. You go back and forth in your head, often, about giving it up. It’s hard to understand, when you are sitting there in your chair, having breakfast or whatever, that giving it up is stronger than holding on, that “letting yourself go” could mean you have succeeded rather than failed. You eat your goddamn Cheerios and bicker with the bitch in your head that keeps telling you you’re fat and weak: Shut up, you say, I’m busy, leave me alone. When she leaves you alone, there’s a silence and a solitude that will take some getting used to. You will miss her sometimes...There is, in the end, the letting go.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #25
    Marya Hornbacher
    “It is, at the most basic level, a bundle of contradictions: a desire for power that strips you of all power. A gesture of strength that divests you of all strength.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted : A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #26
    Marya Hornbacher
    “That’s the nice thing about dreams, the way you wake up before you fall.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #27
    Marya Hornbacher
    “This is the very boring part of eating disorders, the aftermath. When you eat and hate that you eat. And yet of course you must eat. You don’t really entertain the notion of going back. You, with some startling new level of clarity, realize that going back would be far worse than simply being as you are. This is obvious to anyone without an eating disorder. This is not always obvious to you.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

  • #28
    Marya Hornbacher
    “I grew into it. It grew into me. It and I blurred at the edges, became one amorphous, seeping, crawling thing.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Madness: A Bipolar Life

  • #29
    Marya Hornbacher
    “You wake up one morning and there it is, sitting in an old plaid bathrobe in your kitchen, unpleasant and unshaved. You look at it, heart sinking. Madness is a rotten guest.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Madness: A Bipolar Life

  • #30
    Marya Hornbacher
    “My god! people say. You have so much self-control! And later: My god. You're so, so sick. When people say this, they turn their heads, you've won your little game. You have proven your thesis that no-body-loves-me-every-body-hates-me, guess-I'll-just-eat-worms. You get to sink back into your hospital bed, shrieking with righteous indignation. See? you get to say. I knew you'd give up on me. I knew you'd leave.”
    Marya Hornbacher, Wasted : A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia



Rss
« previous 1 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11