A Quote by Holliday Grainger

I was so tiny when my parents split up that I can't remember them ever being together. That was never an issue, as I guess I never went through the trauma of them splitting up.
How many stories have you read that aren't true, stories about me and Angie being married or fighting or splitting up? And when we don't split up, there's a whole new round that we've made up and we're back together again!
I do think I have a lesser ability to remember facts and names than I have done previously, because you never have to store them; you just look them up again. I could make the same recipe 15 times, but I'll never, ever remember how to make it because I'll just look it up.
My family was reasonably liberal. Some kids I grew up with, their parents forced them to join the military, and my parents never, ever even brought it up. I imagine just looking at me, they were like "Not an army officer."
My parents were divorced by the time I was even conscious - like, I don't remember them ever being together.
My parents were divorced by the time I was even conscious - like I don't remember them ever being together.
Growing up with my mother who grew up during World War II being half Filipina, half Okinawan, and literally running around the jungles in the Philippines escaping Japanese military chasing after them - I grew up with what they deem now as trauma, generational trauma.
As a person, I think you're always kind of searching for something or going through a hardship, whether it's your parents splitting up or anything like that. I mean, my parents stuck together, for whatever reason, until I was about 23, and then they decided to call it quits.
I wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone in this whole world. I wouldn't hurt them physically or emotionally, how then can people so consistently do it to me? Even my parents treat me like I'm stupid and inferior and ever short. I guess I'll never measure up to anyone's expectations. I surely don't measure up to what I'd like to be.
I always wonder, aside from even my name, what if my parents never split up? What if my mother never died? It swirls in my head all the time.
I would have to name two people - my parents. I've seen them come through adversity and work hard to create the best life for me and my siblings. Although I don't remember them together as a couple, I remember the love they had for their children.
Bears being sent through the mail should never be squashed up to make them fit. It gives them indigestion.
I was always a storyteller. I just didn't know it. I never shared the stories I made up inside my head when I was growing up. I never wrote them down, either. But I can't remember a time when they weren't there.
The splitting up of color [as Impressionists did] brought the splitting up of form and contour . . . Everything is reduced to a mere sensation of the retina, but one which destroys all tranquility of surface and contour. Objects are differentiated only by the luminosity that is given them.
She looked up. "What I can't figure out is why the good things always end." "Everything ends." "Not some things. Not the bad things. They never go away." "Yes, they do. If you let them, they go away. Not as fast as we'd like sometimes, but they end too. What doesn't end is the way we feel about each other. Even when you're all grown up and somewhere else, you can remember what a good time we had together. Even when you're in the middle of bad things and they never seem to be changing, you can remember me. And I'll remember you.
I don't want to get into splitting hairs. Trauma is trauma. I'm not in a position to quantify or qualify people's trauma.
Mum wasn't scared of dad but I'm sure she got fed up with him taking her for granted... When I look back it was an empty relationship but I doubt there was ever a question of them splitting up. It wasn't the done thing.
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