Maria Otto

“Instead of thinking gigantic thoughts, I tried to focus on something small, the smallest thing I could think of. Someone once made this pew I’m sitting on, I thought. Someone sanded the wood and varnished it. Someone carried it into the church. Someone laid the tiles on the floor, someone fitted the windows. Each brick was placed by human hands, each hinge fitted on each door, every road surface outside, every bulb in every streetlight. And even things built by machines were really built by human beings, who built the machines initially. And human beings themselves, made by other humans, struggling to create happy children and families. Me, all the clothing I wear, all the language I know. Who put me here in this church, thinking these thoughts? Other people, some I know very well and others I have never met. Am I myself, or am I them? Is this me, Frances? No, it is not me. It is the others. Do I sometimes hurt and harm myself, do I abuse the unearned cultural privilege of whiteness, do I take the labor of others for granted, have I sometimes exploited a reductive iteration of gender theory to avoid serious moral engagement, do I have a troubled relationship with my body, yes. Do I want to be free of pain and therefore demand that others also live free of pain, the pain that is mine and therefore also theirs, yes, yes.”
― Sally Rooney, Conversations with Friends

“I didn’t feel with her, like I did with many other people, that while I was talking she was just preparing the next thing she wanted to say.”
― Sally Rooney, Conversations with Friends

“People were always wanting me to show some weakness so they could reassure me. It made them feel worthy, I knew all about that.”
― Sally Rooney, Conversations with Friends

“I was going through a second upbringing: learning a new set of assumptions, and feigning a greater level of understanding than I really possessed.”
― Sally Rooney, Conversations with Friends