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The year I began to say vahz instead of vase, a man I barely knew nearly accidentally killed me.

Amy Hempel

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Amy Hempel
Age: 73
Born: 1951
Born: December 14
Journalist
Writer
Chicago
Illinois
Years
Accidentally
Men
Barely
Nearly
Killed
Began
Instead
Knew
Vase
Year
Vases

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I think of the chimp, the one with the talking hands.
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A five-hour flight works out to three days and nights on land, by rail, from sea to shining sea. You can chalk off the hours on the back of the seat ahead. But seventy-some hours will not seem so long to you if you tell yourself first: This is where I am going to be for the rest of my natural life.
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Sometimes a flat-footed sentence is what serves, so you don't get all writerly: 'He opened the door.' There, it's open.
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I would like to go for a ride with you, have you take me to stand before a river in the dark where hundreds of lightning bugs blink this code in sequence: right here, nowhere else! Right now, never again!
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All those years on the psychiatrist's couch and suddenly the couch is moving. Good God, she is on that couch when the big one hits. Maidy didn't tell you, but you know what her doctor said? She sprang from the couch and said, My God, was that an earthquake? The doctor said this: Did it feel like an earthquake to you?
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nothing is ever quite as bad as it could be.
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I could claim any number of high-flown reasons for writing, just as you can explain certain dogs behavior... But maybe, it’s that they’re dog, and that’s what dogs do.
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I am not quite myself, I think.But who here is quite himself? And yet there is a way in which we are all more ourselves than ever, I suppose.
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What I think, Chatty says, is that if a man loves a woman more than a woman loves a man, then they're even.
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In my head there's a broken balcony I fall off of when I speak.
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Obviously, in journalism, you're confined to what happens. And the tendency to embellish, to mythologize, it's in us. It makes things more interesting, a closer call. But journalism taught me how to write a sentence that would make someone want to read the next one.
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When the beer is gone, so are they -- flexing their cars on up the boulevard.
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Wear your heart on the page, and people will read to find out how you solved being alive.
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My job ... I do nothing, it pays nothing, but - you guessed it - it's better than nothing.
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Look at me. My concerns-are they spiritual, do you think, or carnal? Come on. We've read our Shakespeare.
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Just because you have stopped sinking doesn't mean you're not still underwater.
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I want to know everything about you, so I tell you everything about myself.
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I leave a lot out when I tell the truth
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I meet a person, and in my mind I'm saying three minutes I give you three minutes to show me the spark.
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He could not wait to get rid of them so he could enjoy remembering them.
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