“I can't remember the name of the piece, or the artist. Maybe it wasn't even an artwork. Why must I automatically assume that every strange object is a sculpture, that every public display of unorthodox behavior is an act of… — Sara Baume Copy Share Image
“The entrepreneurs are only about my age, probably younger, but they don't seem so. Their tailored clothes and unbending hairdos, their clipboards and laser… — Sara Baume Copy Share
“. . . buzzed up by the knowledge that none of my family knew where I was, who I was with nor when I'd… — Sara Baume Copy Share
“My phone doesn't ring and the doorbell doesn't either and I begin to wonder whether I am still alive.” — Sara Baume Copy Share
“The last time I went out at night in the city was almost a year ago. It began with anxiety, then I was pleasantly… — Sara Baume Copy Share
“Only the lighted houses remaining, the lemon blush of their inhabited windows.” — Sara Baume Copy Share
“Sometimes things happen that give me cause to believe I no longer exist. Car park barriers which do not lift when I drive towards… — Sara Baume Copy Share
“Why must I test myself? Because no one else will, not anymore. Now that I am no longer a student of any kind, I… — Sara Baume Copy Share
“Why is it only now that I can see how many ordinary things are actually grotesque?” — Sara Baume Copy Share
“We rarely saw each other outside the walls of the gallery, but inside its glaring white spaces, to exorcise the tedium of the tasks… — Sara Baume Copy Share
“Everything is very nearly over. And so none of the normal rules of behavior apply. And so none of my actions can have consequences.” — Sara Baume Copy Share
“It happens so seldom; I must catch and keep this slender yearning, a rare beetle in a jam-jar trap. But mustering will is not… — Sara Baume Copy Share
“Though I am naturally curious about people, I'm also naturally uneasy when they are right in front of me; when I am right in… — Sara Baume Copy Share
“In the days approaching Christmas, she always reminds me of the previous year: 'Jane crocheted you an entire poncho, and all you gave her… — Sara Baume Copy Share
