Irene Nemirovsky was a prolific writer punctiliously devoted to her craft. — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
The first thing a writer needs to know is what kind of writer he/she is. — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
“People who read are hiders. They hide who they are. People who hide don’t always like who they are.” — André Aciman Copy Share Image
I cannot write if there is a sense of plenitude. I have to hypothesize that there is a loss. — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
“I liked his bookstore manner. He was curious but not entirely focused, interested yet nonchalant, veering between a Look what I've found… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
The last thing I want to do is to write about real things. I am not interested in reality and in real… — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
I write - so it would seem - to recapture, to preserve and return to the past, though I might just as… — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
As irony would have it, the very person who inspired me to write a memoir... was the only person to be ejected… — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
I may write about place and displacement, but what I'm really writing about is dispersion, evasion, ambivalence: not so much a subject… — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
“The better a writer, the better he erases his footprints- yet the better the writer, the more he wants us to intuit… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
Don't all writers have a hidden nerve, call it a secret chamber, something irreducibly theirs, which stirs their prose and makes it… — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
A hidden nerve is what every writer is ultimately about. It's what all writers wish to uncover when writing about themselves in… — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
Don't all writers have a hidden nerve, call it a secret chamber, something irreducibly theirs, which stirs their prose and makes it tick and… — Andre Aciman Copy Share
“I wanted him to remember the morning on Monet's berm when I'd kissed him not the first but the second time and given him… — André Aciman Copy Share
Rituals are how we step into our private field of dreams, a small Elysium all our own. Rituals are made not just for us,… — Andre Aciman Copy Share
“I desperately wanted to give him something. By contrast, taking seemed so bland, so facile, so mechanical.” — André Aciman Copy Share
Proust is interested in minutiae because life, as he sees it, is seldom ever about things but about our impression of things, not about… — Andre Aciman Copy Share
“Well, since you're not going to do anything with me—can you at least read me a story? I'd settle for that. I wanted him… — André Aciman Copy Share
“This is heaven.” And I wouldn’t hear him say another word for at least an hour. There was nothing I loved more in life… — André Aciman Copy Share
“He loved the sticky taste. What had I done? I told him and pointed to the bruised evidence sitting on my desk. “Let me… — André Aciman Copy Share
“When had they separated us, you and me, Oliver? And why did I know it, and why didn't you?” — André Aciman Copy Share
“As we were swimming back, he asked as though it were an afterthought, “Are you going to hold last night against me?” — André Aciman Copy Share
“To be with you. To be with you, Oliver. With or without my bathing suit. To be with you on my bed. In your… — André Aciman Copy Share
“I thought I could ever want another living soul, gently, softly, and, with the kindness one Jew extends to another, work his way into… — André Aciman Copy Share
“Oliver: But there's the catch: you're still twenty years younger than those gathered around you, which is why I can be twenty-four in a… — André Aciman Copy Share
I cannot write if there is a sense of plenitude. I have to hypothesize that there is a loss. — Andre Aciman Copy Share
