Marilyn French Quotes

Opening to oneself fully is opening to the world.

I want to unfold. Let no place in me hold itself closed, for where I am closed, I am false.

I feel terribly misunderstood; I feel terribly misunderstood.

We all have times when we go home at night and pull out our hair and feel misunderstood and lonely and like we're falling. I think the brain is such that there is always going to be something missing.

There is no one looking out for us. We are all alone.

Your whole life is on the other side of the glass. And there is nobody watching.

It is sad when people can't connect, and the sense of desperation that you feel when there is nothing to look forward to.

Nobody can understand me.

Sometimes I just want to sit in my boxer shorts and cry. That's what being a human is.

There's a lot of times when I just want to scream into the void.

There was something special about being in a strange place, all alone in a mass of people even if you had just screwed up your life, or perhaps especially if you had just screwed up your life.

So I left him there alone to watch history repeat the same events retold again and again on his own.

The heart is like a flower. Unless it is open, it cannot release its fragrance into the world.

When we close ourselves off, we're not just closing ourselves off to other people, we're closing ourselves off from ourselves and impeding ourselves. When you open up, you allow yourself to be who you are.

No one to hear, you might as well scream.

Let yourself be gutted. Let it open you. Start here.

But when you're alone in the world, really alone, you have no choice but to be open to suggestions.

Tennessee helps me open up. I'm much more vulnerable there, more willing to talk about anything.

I didn't feel like I was in my own body; my body was just a lonely, temporary container I happened to be borrowing.

I done me best when I was let. Thinking always if I go all goes. A hundred cares, a tithe of troubles and is there one who understands me? One in a thousand of years of the nights? All me life I have been lived among them but now they are becoming lothed to me. And I am lothing their little warm tricks. And lothing their mean cosy turns. And all the greedy gushes out through their small souls. And all the lazy leaks down over their brash bodies. How small it's all! And me letting on to meself always. And lilting on all the time.

What I want is to open up. I want to know what's inside me. I want everybody to open up. I'm like an imbecile with a can opener in his hand, wondering where to begin-- to open up the earth. I know that underneath the mess everything is marvelous. I'm sure of it.

And then the days came when I was alone.

To take that risk, to offer life and remain alive, open yourself like this and become whole.

The capacity for fear and for happiness are the same, the unrestricted openness to experience amounting to self-abandonment in which the vanquished rediscovers himself.

I don't talk to everybody, so they don't really know the real me. I don't think anybody will.