Such a small, pure object a poem could be, made of nothing but air a tiny string of letters, maybe small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. But it could blow everybody's head off. — Mary Karr Copy Share Image
I do have a really good memory. I mean, like, I can remember all the phone numbers of everybody on the street I grew… — Mary Karr Copy Share Image
Ninety percent of what's wrong with you could be cured with a hot bath, says God from the bowels of the subway. but we… — Mary Karr Copy Share Image
I always say that a poet loves the world, and the prose writer needs to create an alternative world. — Mary Karr Copy Share Image
“And Meredith says that reminds her of a Camus novel, the one about the plague, and she tells the story of it, the tale… — Mary Karr Copy Share Image
When people suffer, their relationships usually suffer as well. Period. And we all suffer because, as the Buddha says, that's the nature of being… — Mary Karr Copy Share Image
I'm not nearly smart enough or imaginative enough to tackle the novel form. Never happen. — Mary Karr Copy Share Image
“Then it hits me. I’m actually kneeling before a toilet. The throne, as other drunks call it. How many drunken nights and slungover mornings… — Mary Karr Copy Share Image
“I think about the story of Job I heard in Carol Sharp's Sunday school. How he sort of learned to lean into feeling hurt… — Mary Karr Copy Share Image
I believe in God, but even if you don't, you can believe in a self, the person who is innately who you are. Once… — Mary Karr Copy Share Image
Love is the only passion which includes in its dreams the happiness of someone else. — Mary Karr Copy Share Image
It strikes me that whatever advantages there are to being a boy--getting to stay out late and having other people wash your clothes and… — Mary Karr Copy Share Image
