We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins, the emptiness and the calm.
Jeffrey EugenidesRead
Depression is like a bruise that never goes away. A bruise in your mind. You just got to be careful not to touch it where it hurts. It's always there, though.
Interpretation
What this quote means
Depression is a persistent issue that can be sensitive and painful, requiring careful handling.
In this quote, Jeffrey Eugenides likens depression to a bruise that lingers, suggesting that it is a mental injury that may not be visible but still causes significant pain. He emphasizes the importance of being cautious around painful emotions, acknowledging that while it may not be apparent to others, it remains a constant presence in one's life.
Themes
DepressionMental HealthPainBruisesSensitivity
In practice
Example use cases
Use this quote during a mental health awareness event to highlight the internal struggles of those suffering from depression.
More from Jeffrey Eugenides
All quotes βIt was the combination of many factors... With most people, suicide is like Russian roulette. Only one chamber has a bullet. With the Lisbon girls, the gun was loaded. A bullet for family abuse. A bullet for genetic predisposition. A bullet for historical malaise. A bullet for inevitable momentum. The other two bullets are impossible to name, but that doesn't mean the chambers were empty.
Jeffrey EugenidesRead
She lost much of her appetite. At night, an invisible hand kept shaking her awake every few hours. Grief was physiological, a disturbance of the blood. Sometimes a whole minute would pass in nameless dread - the bedside clock ticking, the blue moonlight coating the window like glue - before she`d remember the brutal fact that had caused it.
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It was one of those humid days when the atmosphere gets confused. Sitting on the porch, you could feel it: the air wishing it was water.
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Jerome was sliding and climbing on top of me and it felt like it had the night before, like a crushing weight. So do boys and men announce their intentions. They cover you like a sarcophagus lid. And call it love.
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All sixteen mentioned her jutting ribs, the insubstantiality of her thighs, and one, who went up to the roof with Lux during a warm winter rain, told us how the basins of her collarbones collected water.
Jeffrey EugenidesRead
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