“It's the strangest thing about being human: to know so much, to communicate so much, and yet always to fall so drastically short of clarity, to be, in the end, so isolate and inadequate. Even when people try to say things, they say them poorly or obliquely, or they outright lie, sometimes because they're lying to you, but as often because they're lying to themselves.” PeopleKnowsTryingHumansEndsSometimesLyingFallCommunicateClarityBeing HumanInadequate Author:Claire Messud
“Above all, in my anger, I was sad. Isn't that always the way, that at the heart of the fire is a frozen kernel of sorrow that the fire is trying -- valiantly, fruitlessly -- to eradicate.” WayTryingHeartFireSorrowFrozenKernel Author:Claire Messud
“Nobody would know me from my own description of myself; which is why, when called upon (rarely, I grant) to provide an account, I tailor it, I adapt, I try to provide an outline that can, in some way, correlate to the outline that people understand me to have -- that, I suppose, I actually have, at this point. But who I am in my head, very few people really get to see that. Almost none. It's the most precious gift I can give, to bring her out of hiding.” PeopleKnowsWayGivingTryingI CanMy OwnAccountsWho I AmDescriptionGrantsHidingKnow MeOutlinesUnderstand MeTailorsPrecious Gifts Book:The Woman Upstairs Source: The Woman Upstairs
