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Quote by Emma Forrest

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Thin Skin

This novel explores the intricate layers of a character's psyche, examining the consequences of past traumas and the thin line between sanity and madness. The narrative is a gripping exploration of the human condition, with a focus on the impact of psychological stress on personal relationships and societal norms. more

Author

Emma Forrest
Emma Forrest

Emma Forrest is a renowned British journalist recognized for her work across print and broadcast media. Born on December 26, 1976, she has gained attention for her incisive and sometimes contentious writing. Forrest has contributed to a variety of publications, including The Guardian and The Observer, where she has covered a wide array of subjects, from personal essays to cultural analysis. more

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“For those who need a name, there's a gift basket of medical terms. All I know is cutting made me feel safe. It was proof. Thoughts and words, captured where I could see them and track them. The truth, stinging, on my skin, in a freakish shorthand. Tell me you're going to the doctor, and I'll want to cut worrisome on my arm. Say you've fallen in love and I buzz the outlines of tragic over my breast. I hadn't necessarily wanted to be cured.”

KnowsWantNeedsFeelsMadeWantedNamesTermCuttingArmsSafeDoctorsSkinsTrackProofMedicalFallenInjuryBreastsTragicCapturedOutlinesBasketsBuzzShorthandSelf InjuryThoughts And Words
Author:Gillian Flynn
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“It was that summer, too, that I began the cutting, and was almost as devoted to it as my newfound loveliness. I adored tending to myself, wiping a shallow red pool of my blood away with a damp washcloth to magically reveal, just above my naval: queasy. Applying alcohol with dabs of a cottonball, wispy shreds sticking to the bloody lines of: perky. I had a dirty streak my senior year, which I later rectified.”

YearsLinesCuttingBloodSummerRedAlcoholDirtyInjuryPoolDevotedBloodySeniorShallowStreaksLovelinessDampNavalSelf InjurySenior YearDabsPerky
Book:Sharp Objects: A Novel
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“I am a cutter, you see. Also a snipper, a slicer, a carver, a jabber. I am a very special case. I have a purpose. My skin, you see, screams. It's covered with words - cook, cupcake, kitty, curls - as if a knife-wielding first-grader learned to write on my flesh. I sometimes, but only sometimes, laugh. Getting out of the bath and seeing, out of the corner of my eye, down the side of a leg: baby-doll. Pulling on a sweater, and in a flash of my wrist: harmful. Why these words?”

IfsWritingFirstsSometimesEyePurposeSidesCasesLaughingSeeingSpecialBabySkinsCornersLegsFleshCooksInjuryCoveredKnivesScreamFlashPullingBathsDollsWristsCurlsSweatersKittiesCupcakesSelf InjuryCuttersCarver
Book:The Novels of Gillian Flynn: Sharp Objects, Dark Places
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“Françoise could not help taking a surreptitious glance at Xavière: she gave a start of amazement. Xavière was no longer watching, her head was lowered. Françoise barely suppressed a scream. The girl was pressing the lighted end against her skin, a bitter smile curling her lips. It was an intimate, solitary smile, like that of a half-wit; the voluptuous, tortured smile of a woman possessed of some secret pleasure.”

EndsHelpingGirlPleasureSecretHalfSkinsLipsWitBitterIntimateInjuryScreamPossessedSolitaryGlancesAmazementSelf InjuryVoluptuous
Author:Simone de Beauvoir
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“I took my mother's knife and played johnny johnny johnny on the playhouse floor. I was drunk, stabbed myself every few throws. I held my hand up and there was satisfaction at seeing my blood, the way there was when I saw the red gouges onmy face that people stared at and turned away. They were thinking I was beautiful, but they were wrong, now they could see how ugly and mutilated I was.”

PeopleThinkingWayHandsBeautifulFacesMotherSawsSeeingBloodRedSatisfactionUglyDrunkInjuryKnivesHands UpSelf Injury
Book:White Oleander
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