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I am sorry I didn’t tell you the truth before. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. You kept asking about Romeo and what he was really like. I was hoping that”—he smiled wistfully—“you would recognize me.

Anne Fortier

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Anne Fortier
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: November 10
Novelist
Writer
DK
Like
Sorry
Asking
Wouldn
Wistfully
Tell
Romeo
Didn
Smiled
Truth
Hoping
Really
Kept
Would
Recognize

More quotes by Anne Fortier

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Janice used to say that instinct was reason in a hurry I was not so sure about the reason part.
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After the dress rehearsal that afternoon, someone had misplaced the vial of poison, and for lack of better, Romeo would have to commit suicide by eating Tic Tacs.
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I think Shakespeare is everybody's treasure.
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I absolutely believe the past had its share of warrior women who fought like men. Whether some of these were the actual Amazons from Greek myth is another matter.
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While at Oxford in 1999, I met Jonathan Fortier, who is a Montreal-born Canadian. Despite the challenges of a transatlantic relationship, we remained keen on each other and eventually married in 2002.
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.... death turns all men into great lovers. Would that they were equally ardent while the lady was still alive!
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You were right and I was wrong. When life hurts more than death, it is not worth living.
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Who is more amateurish, more vulnerable---those who rely on machines that need to be plugged in, or logged on, or in some other way connected in order to be more than a useless slab of plastic ... or those who have learned to master life without?
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For as long as I could remember, he had never worn a single piece of clothing that could be considered casual. Khaki shorts and golf shirts, to Umberto, were the garments of men who have no virtues left, not even shame.
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Everything we say is a story. But nothing we say is just a story.
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I did not know my soul until I saw it's reflection in your eyes.
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Perhaps. But the firstborn of hope is tragedy.
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...it is fifty percent what they see, and fifty percent what they think they see.
Anne Fortier
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Don't underestimate the power of events that happened a long time ago. That is the tragic flaw of modern man.
Anne Fortier
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A novel is, hopefully, the starting point of a conversation, one in which the author engages readers and asks that they see things from a different point of view than they might otherwise.
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She had died peacefully, in her sleep, after an evening of listening to all of her favorite Fred Astaire songs, one crackling record after another. Once the last chord of the last piece had died out, she had stood up and opened the French doors to the garden outside, perhaps waiting to breathe in the honeysuckle one more time.
Anne Fortier
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I wish I had the power to flip my reality upside down like an hourglass, and that life wasn't a finite affair, but rather a perpetually recurring passage through a hole in time.
Anne Fortier
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You owe me nothing, but I want everything.
Anne Fortier
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...had always taken for granted that the whole world was in a state of constantly fluctuating madness, and that a neurosis was not an illness, but a fact of life, like pimples.
Anne Fortier
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And whether or not we had now paid our dues, he was my blessing, and I was his.
Anne Fortier