We are like flowers always reaching up towards some shred of light. I find this wondrous, nearly magical, certainly brave. — Marisa Silver Copy Share Image
Writing, for me, is always a dance between the critical part of my brain and the subconscious. — Marisa Silver Copy Share Image
“When Doris had died so long ago, it was weeks before Mary could think clearly and remember what she was supposed to do the… — Marisa Silver Copy Share Image
I guess I'm drawn to stories of people whose physicality puts them on the outside of things in order to explore the ways in… — Marisa Silver Copy Share Image
“Such arrogance. A right of youth, he supposes, a necessity. How else is it possible to face the terrifying void of your unformed self… — Marisa Silver Copy Share Image
But every age deserves its fashion and its forms, and no one can control what survives. — Marisa Silver Copy Share Image
I'm interested in endurance. People persist in the face of the most excruciating hardships. — Marisa Silver Copy Share Image
The story has to flow from an unstructured, felt place, but then I have to bring my analytical brain to bear on issues of… — Marisa Silver Copy Share Image
Things, very strange things, happen in folktales and there is never much attention given to the whys and wherefores. — Marisa Silver Copy Share Image
“What right did she have to take photographs of strangers? But she knew these faces....These people had been made to feel inadequate, abnormal. Their… — Marisa Silver Copy Share Image
Why did people try to shush trouble away as if it were an unruly child? — Marisa Silver Copy Share Image
“A picture doesn't bring someone to life. A picture is a death of the moment when the picture is taken. Whenever you look at… — Marisa Silver Copy Share Image
