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It was too much work to remember things you might not have again, and so one by one they opened up their hands and let them go.

Ann Patchett

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Ann Patchett
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: November 2
Author
Novelist
Writer
LA
California
Things
Opened
Hands
Remember
Might
Work
Much

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I could teach. I could wait tables. I could cook in a restaurant. Food and teaching were the two skills I had.
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He realized now he was only just beginning to see the full extent to which it was his destiny to follow, to walk blindly into fates he could never understand. In fate there was reward, in turning over one's heart to God there was a magnificence that lay beyond description. At the moment one is sure that all is lost, look at what is gained!
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You throw a person in the river and then make a spectacle of jumping in to save them.
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The love between humans is the thing that nails us to the earth.
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No matter how much we love a book, the experience of reading it isn't complete until we can give it to someone who will love it as much as we do
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Keeping people safe is a story we tell ourselves.
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You can't be a jerk in order to be a good writer.
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I can write for any magazine now, in any voice. I can do it in two hours, I could do it in my sleep, it's like writing a grocery list.
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My writing process has changed because it's harder to find uninterrupted time.
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There was no time for kissing but she wanted him to know that in the future there would be. A kiss in so much loneliness was like a hand pulling you up out of the water, scooping you up from a place of drowning and into the reckless abundance of air. A kiss, another kiss.
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Home, bed, sleep, mother--who knew more beautiful words than these?
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Reading fiction is important. It is a vital means of imagining a life other than our own, which in turn makes us more empathetic beings.
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In this life we love who we love. There were some stories in which facts were very nearly irrelevant.
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I don't believe in fate, as in, which I - as a Catholic, I think, sort of predestination. But I certainly believe in chance.
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I think the best vacation is the one that relieves me of my own life for a while and then makes me long for it again.
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It was all in my head and now all I had to do was figure out a way to get it down on paper.
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The hardest piece of nonfiction I ever wrote isn't anywhere close to the easiest piece of fiction I never wrote.
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One must not be shy where language is concerned.
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The light was cut to lace by the trees that had grown so thick with leaves in the last few months.
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Some people need a huge amount of attention, and they are worthy of that attention, and they're still exhausting.
Ann Patchett