Quotes from Amber Tamblyn

I live in a country built on celebritizing its citizens' grief and amplifying stories of violence and assault for political gain, click counts, or television ratings. Let me be emphatically clear: They. Don't. Care. About. Us. People who live through sexual assault are a crash on the side of the road, and the American media is nothing more than cars slowing down just long enough to take a peek.

The mind is the master and the body is the servant.

We publicized it. We capitalized on it. We exploited it for ratings or whatever, for stories, with our memes and GIFs and tweeting and all that. We jump on the train. We show their pictures on live TV. We make clever hashtags. We find ways to, like, absolve ourselves from responsibility or say we've helped out with a retweet or something. We've helped because we've mentioned an injustice in passing to our neighbor and we both got to shake our heads.

I've learned how to make a meal out of pain, how to brand my sorrow.

Your career has another five years, maybe, she says, if you're lucky. According to who? I ask. According to every actress who's come before you. So I turn my focus to every actress coming after me. I

Sexual assault is the single least-reported violent crime. And when it is reported, the victims are blamed and shamed. Or not believed. Or silenced. Punished. Or their attackers are never prosecuted at all.

It's not your fault. But healing your own pain does belong to you now.

Dear men in Congress, You think banning birth control is conservative progress? You think sanctioning my ovaries won't bring me to violence? How about I tell you what to do with your caucus? It is now illegal to think about me topless. To keep your lotion where your socks is. To refer to powerful women as monsters like those jocks at Fox did.

People marched not just because of what Donald Trump did, but because of what all the Donald Trumps have always done. Women marched not just because a woman had lost, but because we too were all done with losing.

This world demands nothing short of perfection from women who aim high, and our need to see perfection in women has, until recently, far outweighed our need for their participation.

Putting our minds to something has never been the problem. The problem has been: Who decides whose mind is worthy?

am in a body. It is not the one I came here with, but it is the one I'll leave here in. I will take care of it. It belongs to me now. My pain, I will take care of it. It belongs to me now.

No one should have to look back to see the bright future ahead of them.

I could get rejected for jobs in acting, directing, or writing for the rest of my life, but nothing would ever take away what the experience of directing my first feature film had taught me: that I know myself better than I think I do and that I know my worth better than others think they do.

Have you ever heard wolves howl in a place where wolves do not reside?

People who live through sexual assault are a crash on the side of the road, and the American media is nothing more than cars slowing down just long enough to take a peek.

When you find a skull in the woods, do you leave it alone because it disturbs you or do you leave it alone because of what's living inside?

I cry until I evaporate.

I watch and try not to think. Everything is a film: a fly on the windshield trying to get in, a delivery truck parked in front of whatever to deliver something I will never savor, a plane carrying flesh messages across the sky. The movie is wonderful to watch when I'm not in it.

My pupils are stabbed into my head like black thumbtacks pinning my entire face in place.

And though I am estranged from the sun, I am a brightness, lit from within.

Anger has that peculiar quality of isolation; like sorrow, it cuts one off, and for the time being, at least, all relationship comes to an end. Anger has the temporary strength and vitality of the isolated. There is a strange despair in anger; for isolation is despair.

The grief loosens its jaw from my neck but doesn't let go.

Sexual assault is the single least-reported violent crime. And when it is reported, the victims are blamed and shamed.