She could not explain or quite understand that it wasn't altogether jealousy she felt, it was rage. And not because she couldn't shop like that or dress like that. It was because that was what girls were supposed to be… — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
I began to understand that there were certain talkers--certain girls--whom people liked to listen to, not because of what they, the girls, had to say, but because of the delight they took in saying it. A delight in themselves, a… — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
William Maxwell's my favorite North American writer, I think. And an Irish writer who used to write for 'The New Yorker' called Maeve Brennan,… — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
“Not very long ago I was driving with my husband on the back roads of Grey County, which is to the north and east… — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
“Her silent singing wrapped around the story she was telling herself, which she extended further every night on the deck. (Averill often told herself… — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
“Something happened here. In your life there are a few places, or maybe only the one place, were something happened, and then there are… — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
My head was a magpie's nest lined with such bright scraps of information. — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
The thing is to be happy, no matter what. Just try that. You can. It gets to be easier and easier. It's nothing to… — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
What she wants to do if she can get the time to do it, is not so much to live in the past as… — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
“Children Katy's age had no problem with monotony. In fact they embraced it, diving into it and wrapping the familiar words round their tongues… — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
“This is what happens. You put it away for a little while, and now and again you look in the closet for something else… — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
She sits in her usual ample armchair, with piles of books and unopened magazines around her. She sips cautiously from the mug of weak… — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
The images, the language, of pornography, and romance are alike; monotonous and mechanically seductive, quickly leading to despair. — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
I was a grade B housewife, maybe a B minus. But when I got time to write, I would be unable to finish a… — Alice Munro Copy Share Image
