317 Quotes by Miranda July

I had forgotten about the baby. Until then she had been giving birth to birth – to contractions and noises and liquids. There was someone in there. We.

And why had Deb’s last boyfriend dumped her? I dumped him. Maybe you didn’t French-kiss him enough. I promise you that wasn’t it. Tell me how many times a day you kissed, and I’ll say if it was enough. Four hundred. Not enough.

He loved me. He was a complex person with layers of percolating emotions, some of them spiritual, some tortured in a more secular way, and he burned for me. This complicated flame of being was mine.

For the first six months I just walked around in a constant state of amazement. I looked at other couple and wondered how they could be so calm about it. They held hands as if they weren’t even holding hands.

The singer was lifted up and illuminated with gratitude, not for any one thing, but for the whole of his life, even for the agony. Even in Latin you could tell he was thanking God for the agony in particular, for the way it allowed him to cleave so tightly to the world.

Narrative and characters have always interested me. I never tried to alienate an audience. Of course, gradually, I wanted a bigger and bigger space to draw people in, so it’s very organic.

I decided, right there in the darkness of the hallway, that I wanted this.

Since I started making art, I’ve always had some kind of project that was really about and for other people, because I think I just need that balance to feel sane myself – you know?

Try not to base your decision on this room, it isn’t representative of the whole world. Somewhere the sun is hot on a rubbery leaf, clouds are making shapes and reshaping and reshaping, a spiderweb is broken but still works.