Quotes by Frances Farmer

• That satisfied me until I began to figure that if God loved all his children equally, why did he bother about my red hat and let other people lose their fathers and mothers for always?
• I couldn't get that same feeling during the day, with my hands in dirty dish water and the hard sun showing up the dirtiness on the roof tops. And after a time, even at night, the feeling of God didn't last.
• I didn't think then, and I still don't, that I was actually sick.
• I have learned that to have a good friend is the purest of all God's gifts, for it is a love that has no exchange of payment.
• There comes a point when a dream becomes reality and reality becomes a dream.
• But I was sure of one thing. If God were a father, with children, that cleanliness I had been feeling wasn't God.
• The more people pointed at me in scorn the more stubborn I got and when they began calling me the Bad Girl of West Seattle High, I tried to live up to it.
• I just knew that God wasn't there. He was a man on a throne in Heaven, so he was easy to forget.
• It puzzled me that other people hadn't found out, too. God was gone. We were younger. We had reached past him. Why couldn't they see it? It still puzzles me.
• If a person is treated like a patient, they are apt to act like one.
• I wondered a little why God was such a useless thing. It seemed a waste of time to have him. After that he became less and less, until he was... nothingness.
• I went to Sunday School and liked the stories about Christ and the Christmas star. They were beautiful. They made you warm and happy to think about. But I didn't believe them.
• I used to lie between cool, clean sheets at night after I'd had a bath, after I had washed my hair and scrubbed my knuckles and finger-nails and teeth. Then I could lie quite still in the dark with my face to the window with the trees in it, and talk to God.
• I think God just died of old age. And, when I realized that he wasn't any more, it didn't shock me. It seemed natural and right!
• The Sunday School teacher talked too much in the way our grade school teacher used to when she told us about George Washington. Pleasant, pretty stories, but not true.