You chose love like a belief, a faith, a place, a box for one's heart to knock against like a spook in… — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
I often think that at the center of me is a voice that at last did split, a house in my heart… — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
“Love drains from you, takes with it much of your blood sugar and water weight. You are like a house slowly losing… — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
The people in this house, I felt, and I included myself, were like characters each from a different grim and gruesome fairy… — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
My father was the child of academics and was probably destined to become an academic himself but vetoed that idea. Bailed, dropped… — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
But I believed in starting over. There was finally, I knew, only rupture and hurt and falling short between all persons, but, Shirley, the… — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
I'm very interested in what people will do for money. Money: it's timeless. — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
“One of the problems with people in Chicago, she remembered, was that they were never lonely at the same time. Their sadness occurred in… — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
“If you had forgotten, it would quickly come back to you. Aloneness was like riding a bike. At gunpoint. With the gun in your… — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
“Observing others go through them, he used to admire midlife crises, the courage and shamelessness and existential daring of them, but after he'd watched… — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
Start dating someone who is funny, someone who has what in high school you called a "really great sense of humor" and what now… — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
“Amber was not shy. If she had been shy, not one of us would be at Perkins right now.” — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
“Farmers aren't rich. They have land but no money." Actually, my father didn't even have that much land. He had once stood on the… — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
“My grandmother, who, when I visited, stared at me with the staggering, arrogant stare of the dying, the wise vapidity of the already gone;… — Lorrie Moore Copy Share Image
