Home is a place in the mind. When it is empty, it frets. It is fretful with memory, faces and places and times gone by. Beloved images rise up in disobedience and make a mirror for emptiness. — Maeve Brennan Copy Share Image
“It is necessary to find one's own way in New York. New York City is not hospitable. She is very big and she has no heart. She is not charming. She is not sympathetic. She is rushed and noisy and unkempt, a hard, ambitious, irresolute place, not very lively, and never gay. When she glitters she is very, very bright,… — Maeve Brennan Copy Share
Home is a place in the mind. When it is empty, it frets. It is fretful with memory, faces and places and times gone by. Beloved images rise up in disobedience and make a mirror for emptiness. Then what resentful wonder, and what half-aimless seeking. It is a silly state of affairs. It is a silly creature that tries to… — Maeve Brennan Copy Share
New York does nothing for those of us who are inclined to love her except implant in our hearts a homesickness that baffles us… — Maeve Brennan Copy Share Image
“ON THE A TRAIN There were no seats to be had on the A train last night, but I had a good grip on… — Maeve Brennan Copy Share Image
Home is a place in the mind. When it is empty, it frets. It is fretful with memory, faces and places and times gone… — Maeve Brennan Copy Share Image
All we have to face in the future is what has happened in the past. It is unbearable. — Maeve Brennan Copy Share Image
