Alexander Chee Quotes

WE ARE NOT WHAT we think we are. The stories we tell of ourselves are like thin trails across something that is more like the ocean. A mask afloat on the open sea. There were moments before the memory’s return when I experienced what I now understand as its absence as not a gap but a whole other self, a whole other me. As if a copy of me had secretly replaced me. An android of me moving through the landscape, independent of the other me, exactly like me but not me. Every now and then, I could see the distance between us. Three times, in particular, this other self had appeared before me.

Imagine yourself as a pool of light and sound altering as all your days run through you, and they pass again and again. From moment to moment, you are every age you have ever been, but in no particular order. Time courses through you, the time you lived, a flume of your days. This was Peter’s dementia.

I was now both the secret and the keeper of it, but the idea that I could not know what is was I served, nor why, nor who, became nearly unendurable all at once

She said this watching my eyes as if she were testing the edge of a blade on me. And so I made sure not to flinch.

Hate is love on fire, set out to burn like a flare on the side of the road. It says, stop here. Something terrible has happened. Envy is like, the skin you're in burns. And the salve is someone else's skin.

I sang it as a gift to the audience, to the composer, to me. I sang it as a taunt to the Fates, too. I was weary of my fears as well as my desires, and so I sang it in simple defiance of all of it, even defying myself.

This was my slender bridge to the future, and I stepped onto it as carefully as I could.

The night is a wonderful country to rule.

Stories about the most difficult things need to provide catharsis, or the reader will stop reading, or go mad.

her interest was not the beginning of a friendship but more of a measuring.

They had the faces of angels and the determination of demons.

The freedom to imagine that as yet unimaginable work in front of others, moving them to still more action you can't imagine, that is the point of writing, to me. You may think it is humility to imagine your work doesn't matter. It isn't. Much the way you don't know what a writer will go on to write, you don't know what a reader, having read you, will do.

...you can lose more than you thought possible and still grow back, stronger than anyone imagined.

For the novelists in your life I have heard it said that it is better if you pretend they do something else and that it is always attended to, and doesn’t need your attention in the slightest. And then when asked for support, muster an enormous enthusiasm.

I am built for this terrible pain, I told myself, and sent myself on my way.