"When people say that nothing happens in their lives I believe them. But you must understand that everything happens to an artist; time is always redeemed, nothing is lost and wonders never cease."

-Muriel Spark, Loitering With Intent

I got a pedicure each time I promised myself I’d stop doing heroin—which is to say, I got pedicures that whole summer. Pedicures gave me the false notion I was about to get my shit together. I wasn’t functioning well—my brain cells were spent, and my serotonin was depleted. Sitting despondent in a vinyl chair was as good as it got.

Chloe Caldwell, I’ll Tell You In Person

"I feared her gaze—she made people feel like the only ones in the room. I wanted to feel fractional."

–Chelsea Hodson, Pity the Animal

In his review of Intra-Venus, Hannah's posthumous show, Ralph Rugoff describes the artist's startling photos of her naked cancer-ridden body as "a deeply thrilling venture into narcissism." As if the only possible reason for a woman to publically reveal herself could be self-therapeutic. As if the point was not to reveal the circumstances of one's own objectification.

Chris Kraus, I Love Dick

On the deepest level in my gut, I knew she was not coming. How could she come? It was ridiculous. Idealistic. Flighty. Fantasy. But she’d told me she’d gotten a driver, and she would leave the city around ten a.m. I had to take her at her word. Though I’d possibly be cooler, more authentic, if I didn’t scrub the toilet and change my books around so the obscure ones would show.

Chloe Caldwell, I’ll Tell You In Person