Quote

Everybody that went away suffered a broken heart. I'm coming back some day, they all wrote. But never did. The old life was too small to fit anymore.

Annie Proulx

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Annie Proulx
Age: 89
Born: 1935
Born: August 22
Author
Journalist
Librettist
Non-Fiction Writer
Novelist
Screenwriter
Norwich
Connecticut
E. Annie Proulx
E.A. Proulx
Edna Annie Proulx
Edna Ann Proulx
Life
Coming
Went
Small
Everybody
Suffered
Away
Wrote
Back
Fit
Heart
Anymore
Never
Broken

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We're all strange inside. We learn how to disguise our differences as we grow up.
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A spinning coin, still balanced on its rim, may fall in either direction.
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Archie was an expert at dividing the affairs of life into men's business and women's business. An empty cupboard and a full plate were the man's business, a full cupboard and an empty plate the concern of the woman.
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If you are looking for smart judging based on merit, skip the Academy Awards next year and pay attention to the Independent Spirit Awards.
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All the travelin I ever done is going around the coffeepot looking for the handle.
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But the only rhyme he could summon for 'out' was 'sauerkraut,' which lacked poetic glory. He let it go. The right line would come in time. That was the thing about poetry. It crept up through the draws and coulees of the brain.
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Change itself is what fascinates me. I am drawn, as a moth to the flame, by edge situations, by situations of metamorphosis.
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You know, one of the tragedies of real life is that there is no background music.
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And it may be that love sometimes occurs without pain or misery.
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If a piece of knotted string can unleash the wind, and if a drowned man can awaken, then I believe a broken man can heal.
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It takes a year, nephew... a full turn of the calendar, to get over losing someone.
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Their silence comfortable. Something unfolding. But what? Not love, which wrenched and wounded. Not love, which came only once.
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No wonder, he thought, that the panhandle people were a godly lot, for they lived in sudden, violent atmospheres. Weather kept them humble.
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There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe, but nothing could be done about it, and if you can't fix it you've got to stand it.
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You should write because you love the shape of stories and sentences and the creation of different words on a page. Writing comes from reading, and reading is the finest teacher of how to write.
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If life was an arc of light that began in darkness, ended in darkness, the first part of his life had happened in ordinary glare. Here it was as though he had found a polarized lens that deepened and intensified all seen through it.
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I rarely use the internet for research, as I find the process cumbersome and detestable. The information gained is often untrustworthy and couched in execrable prose. It is unpleasant to sit in front of a twitching screen suffering assault by virus, power outage, sluggish searches, system crashes and the lack of direct human discourse.
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... there are four women in every man’s heart. The Maid in the Meadow, the Demon Lover, the Stouthearted Woman, the Tall and Quiet Woman.
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I wish I knew how to quit you.
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