Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Lorrie Moore

Quote by Lorrie Moore

“You couldn't pretend you had lost nothing... you had to begin there, not let your blood freeze over. If your heart turned away at this, it would turn away at something greater, then more and more until your heart stayed averted, immobile, your imagination redistributed away from the world and back only toward the bad maps of yourself, the sour pools of your own pulse, your own tiny, mean, and pointless wants.”

Quote by Lorrie Moore

Work

Birds of America: Stories

This book is a compilation of short stories that delve into the complexities of human experience, focusing on themes such as identity, cultural heritage, and the search for belonging. The narratives may range from personal anecdotes to broader explorations of societal issues, offering readers a diverse and thought-provoking glimpse into various aspects of life. more

Author

Lorrie Moore
Lorrie Moore

Lorrie Moore is an American writer renowned for her short stories. Her work is celebrated for its humor, satire, and profound insights into everyday life. Born on January 13, 1957, Moore graduated from Harvard University, where she began her writing career. more

You May Also Like

“The Prince found Buttercup waiting unhappily outside his chamber doors. It's my letter,' she began. 'I cannot make it right.' Come in, come in,' the Prince said gently. 'Maybe we can help you.' She sat down in the same chair as before. 'All right, I'll close my eyes and listen; read to me.' Westley, my passion, my sweet, my only my own. Come back, come back. I shall kill myself otherwise. Yours in torment, Buttercup.' She looked at Humperdinck. 'Well? Do you think I'm throwing myself at him?”

“I just know once you're over your emotional outbursts, you'll come up with-' I mean if we even had a wheelbarrow, that would be something,' Westley said.”

“There are gentle souls who would pronounce Lolita meaningless because it does not teach them anything. I am neither a reader nor a writer of didactic fiction...For me a work of fiction exists only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm.”