After a few months in my parents' basement, I took an apartment near the state university, where I discovered both crystal methamphetamine and conceptual art. Either one of these things are dangerous, but in combination they have the potential to destroy entire civilizations.— David Sedaris
The most emotional David Sedaris quotes to get the best of your day
The Greeks had invented democracy, built the Acropolis and called it a day.
Real love amounts to withholding the truth, even when you're offered the perfect opportunity to hurt someone's feelings.
A zoo is a good place to make a spectacle of yourself, as the people around you have creepier, more photogenic things to look at.
There seemed to be some correlation between devotion to God and a misguided zeal for marshmallows.
All of us take pride and pleasure in the fact that we are unique, but I'm afraid that when all is said and done the police are right: it all comes down to fingerprints.
When asked "What do we need to learn this for?" any high-school teacher can confidently answer that, regardless of the subject, the knowledge will come in handy once the student hits middle age and starts working crossword puzzles in order to stave off the terrible loneliness.
A week after my drugs ran out, I left my bed to perform at the college, deciding at the last minute to skip both the doughnut toss and the march of the headless plush toys. Instead, I just heated up a skillet of plastic soldiers, poured a milkshake over my head and called it a night.
It was my friend Frank, a writer in San Francisco, who finally set me straight.
When asked about my new look he put down his fork and stared at me for a few moments. "A bow tie announces to the world you can no longer get an erection."
I started writing when I was twenty, and my first book came out seventeen years later.
Like all of my friends, she's a lousy judge of character.
A good [short story] would take me out of myself and then stuff me back in, outsized, now, and uneasy with the fit.
But most good movies have a gun in them.
It's odd the things that people remember.
Parents will arrange a birthday party, certain it will stick in your mind forever. You'll have a nice time, then two years later you'll be like, 'There was a pony there? Really? And a clown with one leg?'
Boys who spent their weekends making banana nut muffins did not, as a rule, excel in the art of hand-to-hand combat.
I've been keeping a diary for thirty-three years and write in it every morning.
Most of it's just whining, but every so often there'll be something I can use later: a joke, a description, a quote. It's an invaluable aid when it comes to winning arguments. 'That's not what you said on February 3, 1996,' I'll say to someone.
Lovers of audio books learn to live with compromise.
I guess my guilty pleasure would be listening to the British audio versions of the 'Harry Potter' books.
Snowball just leads elves on, elves and Santas. He is playing a dangerous game.
Speed eliminates all doubt. Am I smart enough? Will people like me? Do I really look all right in this plastic jumpsuit?
Some friendships are formed by a commonality of interests and ideas: you both love judo or camping or making your own sausage. Other friendships are forged in alliance against a common enemy.
I've maintained old friendships, like with people I knew in the nineteen-seventies, but have lost the knack for meeting new people. This has a lot to do with my writing schedule. I don't want to be disturbed, and the willingness to be disturbed is, I think, part of being a good friend.
Writing gives you the illusion of control, and then you realize it's just an illusion, that people are going to bring their own stuff into it.
Besides, if I wanted to hear people speaking wall-to-wall French, all I had to do was remove my headphones and participate in what is known as ‘real life,’ a concept as uninviting as a shampoo cocktail.
Neighbors would pass, and when they honked I'd remember that I was in my Speedo.
Then I'd wrap my towel like a skirt around my waist and remind my sisters that this was not girlish but Egyptian, thank you very much.
If you aren't cute, you may as well be clever.
They were nothing like the French people I had imagined.
If anything, they were too kind, too generous and too knowledgable in the fields of plumbing and electricity.
Their house had real hardcover books in it, and you often saw them lying open on the sofa, the words still warm from being read.
I think it's good to have the alone time.
Well, I kind of have to, because I have to be alone in order to work, so I have alone time. And then I go on tour and I have being-around-people time.
I felt uncomfortable calling myself a writer until I started with 'The New Yorker,' and then I was like, 'Okay, now you can call yourself that.
Hugh returned from his trip, and days later I still sounded like a Red Chinese asking questions about the democratic hinterlands. "And you actually saw people smoking in restaurants? Really! And offices, too? Oh, tell me again about the ashtrays in the hospital waiting room, and don't leave anything out."
The only bright spot in the entire evening was the presence of Kevin "Tubby" Matchwell, the eleven-year-old porker who tackled the role of Santa with a beguiling authenticity. The false beard tended to muffle his speech, but they could hear his chafing thighs all the way to the North Pole.
His embarassment would have pleased me, but once he recovered, there would be that awkward period that sometimes culminates in a handshake. I didn't want to touch these people's hands or see things from their point of view, I just wanted to continue hating them. So I kept my mouth shut and stared off into space.
He die one day, and then he go above of my head to live with your father.
" He weared the long hair, and after he died, the first day he come back here for to say hello to the peoples." He nice, the Jesus.
During episodes of unemployment I find it rewarding to sleep as much as possible-anything from twelve to fourteen hours a day is a good starting point. Sleep spares you humiliation and saves money at the same time: nothing to eat, nothing to buy, just lie back and dream your life away.
... [I] recall thinking that the computer would never advance much further than this. Call me naïve, but I seemed to have underestimated the universal desire to sit in a hard plastic chair and stare at a screen until your eyes cross.
My hands tend to be full enough dealing with people who hate me for who I am.
Concentrate too hard on the millions of people who hate you for what you are and you're likely to turn into one of those unkempt, sloppy dressers who sag beneath the weight of the two hundred political buttons they wear pinned to their coats and knapsacks.
If you are any kind of an artist, then validation .
. . can be a result, but you're going to do the work anyway.
We were not a hugging people. In terms of emotional comfort it was our belief that no amount of physical contact could match the healing powers of a well made cocktail.
I like nonfiction books about people with wretched lives.
My boyfriend got me a computer three years ago.
I'll admit it does make things a lot easier. When I was working on a typewriter and I whited out a line, often I would choose a word to go in the space just because it fit. Now I don't have to do that.
As a child I assumed that when I reached adulthood, I would have grown-up thoughts.
The message was that if something is free, you should only take the best.
If, on the other hand, you're forced to pay, it's best to lower the bar and not be so choosy.
This was the consequence of seeing too much and understanding the horrible truth: No one is safe. The world is not manageable.
I've often lost faith in myself, I've never lost it in my family.
I go to the movies at least five times a week, and after a while everything becomes a blur to me.
I love things made out of animals. It's just so funny to think of someone saying, 'I need a letter opener. I guess I'll have to kill a deer.
If you read someone else's diary, you get what you deserve.
For as long as I can remember, my father saved.
He saves money, he saves disfigured sticks that resemble disfigured celebrities, and most of all, he saves food. Cherry tomatoes, sausage biscuits, the olives plucked from other people's martinis --he hides these things in strange places until they are rotten. And then he eats them.
I won't put in a load of laundry, because the machine is too loud and would drown out other, more significant noises - namely, the shuffling footsteps of the living dead.