A Quote by Katherine Dunn

Suddenly the staggering love bursts away from me like milk from a smashed glass. — © Katherine Dunn
Suddenly the staggering love bursts away from me like milk from a smashed glass.
I love milk so much! I make a point of drinking a glass of milk every day. So now anyone who did those milk ads with the milk mustaches, they're my heroes.
Imagine a smashed stained-glass window, a page torn from a Bible, or a snippet of choral singing. You would still recognize their religious roots, wouldn't you? In 1915, Coca-Cola designed a bottle so unique that if it were smashed into thousands of pieces, from a single shard of glass you'd still be able recognize the brand. We call such a device a Smashable. It can be anything from a color to a sound, from a pattern to a smell to an icon.
Olive's private view is that life depends on what she thinks of as "big bursts" and "little bursts." Big bursts are things like marriage or children, intimacies that keep you afloat, but these big bursts hold dangerous, unseen currents. Which is why you need the little bursts as well: a friendly clerk at Bradlee's, let's say, or the waitress at Dunkin' Donuts who knows how you like your coffee. Tricky business, really.
Relationships never break cleanly. Like a valuable vase, they are smashed and then glued back together, smashed and glued, smashed and glued until the pieces just don't fit together anymore.
Cows' milk and soya milk isn't good for me. Almond milk and rice milk is OK. I don't really drink alcohol, either. Maybe wine but only sometimes.
It's this subconscious part of me that knows just how far to go, and suddenly, everything bursts into flames.
If someone paid me a million dollars to drink a glass of milk, I wouldn't do it; maybe that's because I don't need the money.
Throughout the day I suddenly get bursts of excitement about not very much at all, like those things in public toilets that puff out air freshener.
We have begun to slam doors, and to throw things. I throw my purse, an ashtray, a package of chocolate chips, which breaks on impact. We are picking up chocolate chips for days. Jon throws a glass of milk, the milk, not the glass: he knows his own strength, as I do not. He throws a box of Cheerios, unopened. The things I throw miss, although they are worse things. The things he throws hit, but are harmless. I begin to see how the line is crossed, between histrionics and murder.
Stained glass, engraved glass, frosted glass; give me plain glass.
Travel, for me, is a little bit like being in love because suddenly, all your senses are at the setting marked 'on.' Suddenly, you're alert to the secret patterns of the world.
I was allergic to milk as a child. My older brother would always get a big glass and drink it in front of me all the time.
I like to start off my day with a glass of champagne...I like to wind it up with a glass of champagne, too. To be frank, I also like a glass or two in between. It may not be the universal medicine for every disease, as my friends in Reims and Epernay so often tell me, but it does you less harm than any other liquid.
The human body has no more need for cows' milk than it does for dogs' milk, horses' milk, or giraffes' milk.
One day we were sitting in our little classroom in the middle of Australia Zoo, and Dad bursts in and says, 'OK, today we're going to go climb a mountain,' - the Glass House Mountains are about 20 minutes away - so we packed up all our math work and ran out the door and climbed Mount Tibrogargan.
There are, it has been said, two types of people in the world. There are those who, when presented with a glass that is exactly half full, say: this glass is half full. And then there are those who say: this glass is half empty. The world belongs, however, to those who can look at the glass and say: What's up with this glass? Excuse me? Excuse me? This is my glass? I don't think so. My glass was full! And it was a bigger glass! Who's been pinching my beer?
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