Sherman Alexie Quotes

I’m not a romantic, I’m a half-wit. Only stupid people would think I’m smart. I’m not something anyone should know. I’m a lunatic wandering around for scraps, I’m like every single miserable moron I’ve scorned and pretended I didn’t recognize. I’m all of them, every last ugly thing in a bad last-minute costume. I’m not different, not at all, not different from any other speck of a thing. I’m a blemished blemish, a ruined ruin, a stained wreck so failed I can’t see what I used to be.

I've got the brain of a four year old. I'll bet he was glad to be rid of it.

In my deepest parts of sadness, I'm always making a joke or being sarcastic.

Not that smart. Not that hot. Not that nice. Not that funny. That's me: I'm not that.

The quickness and flexibility of a well mind, a belief or hope that things will eventually sort themselves out-these are the resources lost to a person when the brain is ill.

I have short-term memory loss, though I'd like to think of it as Persidential eligibility.

Some people are amazed at my brain, but really it's nothing.

If I'm smart then I'll run away, but I'm not so I guess I'll stay

Everyone tells me I've had such an interesting life, but sometimes I think it's been nothing but stomach disturbances and self-concern.

I'm not a suicidal person at all, but on paper it seems that I am. I think I'm really quite horrible to myself in many ways. You always think it's going to be fine, the body will repair itself. There will be another chance. But I'm 33 now. The body won't keep repairing itself. You know when you can flick a coin and catch it on your elbow, and flick it up and catch it on the back of your head? And then you can't even catch it with two hands any more. You realise something is wrong.

...we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly need mending.

A stupid person can make only certain, limited types of errors; the mistakes open to a clever fellow are far broader. But to the one who knows how smart he is compared to everyone else, the possibilities for true idiocy are boundless.

You’re insane, you know that?” he says. “It’s the only thing keeping me afloat,” I say.

Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern.

But I'm not ready to stop listening to the screwed-up inner voice that's been ordering me around for a lifetime. My head thinks it can kill me... and go on living without me.

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell; I know right now you can't tell; But stay a while and maybe then you'll see; A different side of me

Psychologically, it's better that I think that I'm dirt.

That's the whole trouble. When you're feeling very depressed, you can't even think.

You're in a bad way! Apparently, you have developed a soul.

I am the most unhappy soul alive." "I'd heard it said that fairies have no souls." "Then do I ache, and bleed, and smart, elsewhere; still, call it soul for it is solely mine.

I'm not always depressed: only when I think and feel.

You get a concussion. It could take 30, 40 days until that starts to come to life where you're in agony. Ask any doctor.

When you're in your own body, you don't feel great about yourself. I don't think of myself that way.

Some of her self-hatred had oozed out with the blood.

We can spend our whole lives escaping from the monsters of our minds. (36)