How hollow to have no secrets left; you shake yourself and nothing rattles. You're boneless as an anemone. — Andrew Sean Greer Copy Share Image
It takes too much imagination to see the sorrows of people we take for happy. Their real battles take place, like those of the… — Andrew Sean Greer Copy Share Image
They say you hit your stride as a writer at about 50. I'm hoping to do that. — Andrew Sean Greer Copy Share Image
“Then I traveled. Quite a bit, in fact. You have to stockpile a few beautiful vistas in your memory, Pearlie. In case we're rationed… — Andrew Sean Greer Copy Share Image
“To give up a marriage - someone unmarried might imagine it's like giving up a seat in a theater, or sacrificing a trick in… — Andrew Sean Greer Copy Share Image
“Standing on the deck of a San Francisco ferryboat, in a gray suit so precisely the same colour as the fog that he seems… — Andrew Sean Greer Copy Share Image
“A rosewater smell from the box summoned, instantly, a dictatorial woman with a tight bun, hectoring him with questions. The cut, the buttons, the… — Andrew Sean Greer Copy Share Image
Does love always form, like a pearl, around the hardened bits of life? — Andrew Sean Greer Copy Share Image
I was raised Unitarian, and my mother said she took us to church so that we wouldn't get religious later in life. — Andrew Sean Greer Copy Share Image
A downside to being a successful novelist? Wow - I can't imagine one. — Andrew Sean Greer Copy Share Image
