Quotes from Miranda July

It's not your fault. Perhaps this was really the only thing I had ever wanted to say to anyone, and be told.

It was still diving, it was still letting go of mammalian pride and embracing gravity.

on the long ride home, neither of us said anything. we were kites flying in opposite directions attached to strings held by one hand.

i had no money for the bus, so i walked. it was an incredible distance. a horse would get tired galloping there. when birds flew there, it was called migration.

I'll be the first to say, It's so beautiful here. The sooner you say, It's so beautiful here, the quicker you can say, Wow, I'm getting overheated.

Don't wait to be sure or you'll miss the boat, hop on and move, move, move.

The receptionist xeroxed my insurance card while explaining that chromotherapy isn't covered by insurance.

I explained about how we were in Rick's hands and also how he had washed his hands.

In truth, I had not yet learned how to hate anyone but my parents. I was actually just standing there in love. I was not even really standing; if she had walked away suddenly, I would have fallen.

I guess that's true, you really can't complain, can you?

Era um ato de devoção. Um pouco como escrever ou amar alguém — nem sempre achamos que vale a pena, mas, de alguma forma, não desistir disso faz um sentido inesperado depois de um tempo.

I'm trying to be brave 'cause when I'm brave other people feel brave but I feel like my heart is caving in.

She fired him on the spot—her face shaking with regret about things she had not nipped while they were still in the bud.

I was experiencing the paroxysm of selfhood. The scientific name for this spasm is The Last Hurrah. The feeling was quickly spent.

Except she wasn't like a husband from the 1950s because she didn't bring home the bacon.

My voice was low and formal. I sounded like a wooden father from the 1800s.

But Ed [the family counselor] wasn't fazed; in fact, he suggested the dynamic had served each of us well. Something in the way he said this gave me the feeling that the dynamic was moving on, perhaps down the block, where it would serve some other confused family. And we would be left dynamic-less, four people alone with all the wrong feelings for one another.

Many of the people there were in their twenties and thirties, and I wondered if they were Blanca or the friends of Blanca..There were also people in their forties, fifties, sixties, and seventies, and these people had a chance of being Blanca, too, or the parents of Blanca, or grandparents or even great-grandparents of Blanca, if Blanca was a child. There were a few children running around, sisters of brothers, who could be Blanca or Blanca's grandchild...

Our bleak reality was now apparent: we couldn't leave and we couldn't change partners.

But I knew jumping was like dying, I would have to let go of everything.

Was I like honey thinking it's a small bear, not realizing the bear is just the shape of its bottle? -Cheryl

I saw the darkness swirling inside him. I saw that his feet did not touch the ground when he played basketball at recess. In moments, he was flying. Not like a bird but subtly, like a person.

The boy, who himself was so compelling in the way boys can be. How he pushed his hair off his sweaty forehead, the mineral smell of him, his hand holding a pencil, holding a pencil, holding a pencil, his hand!

They seem easy to write, but that's the illusion of all good advice. Common sense and truth should feel authorless, write by time itself.