Anxious People
by Fredrik Backman
“People want to be good. Deep down, kind. The problem of course is that it isn’t always possible to be kind to idiots, because they’re idiots. That’s become a lifelong project for Nadia to grapple with as it is for all of us.” (p. 101)
“...the people we argue with hardest of all are not the ones who are completely different from us, but those who are almost no different at all.” (p. 209)
“Nothing is easier for people who never do anything themselves than to criticize someone who actually makes an effort.” (p. 209)
“”... No one can go to two thousand apartment viewings and not realize that there’s more love in the world than the opposite.”
…”What do you base that on?”
…”All the apartments that aren’t for sale.”” (p. 2
“”..Everything feels such a big deal, and other parents feel so…funny the whole time. They laugh and joke and everyone says you should play with children and I don’t like playing, I didn’t like it even when I was a child. So I’m worried the child is going to be disappointed. Everyone said it would be different when I got pregnant, but I don’t actually like all children. I thought that would change, but I meet my friend’s children now and I still think they’re annoying and have a lousy sense of humor.”
Anna-Lena spoke up, briefly and to the point:
“You don’t have to like all children. Just one.”” (p. 258)
“”...I’ve learned that it helps to talk about it. Unfortunately I think most people would still get more sympathy from their colleagues and bosses at work if they show up looking rough one morning and say “I’m hung-over” than if they say “I’m suffering from anxiety”. But I think we pass people in the street every day who feel the same as you and I, many of them just don’t know what it is - men and women going around for months having trouble breathing and seeing doctor after doctor because they think there’s something wrong with their lungs. All because it’s so damn difficult to admit that something else is… broken. That it’s an ache in our soul, invisible lead weights in our blood, and indescribable pressure in our chest. Our brains are lying to us, telling us we’re going to die. But there’s nothing wrong with our lungs, Sara. We’re not going to die, you and I.”” (p. 319-20)
“...when you get home this evening, when this day is over and the night takes us, allow yourself a deep breath. Because we made it through this day as well.
There’ll be another one along tomorrow.” (p. 336)