Best Joan Didion Thoughts
- Memory fades, memory adjusts, memory conforms to what we think we remember. Adjusts
- In fact I no longer value this kind of memento. I no longer want reminders of what was, what got broken, what got lost, what… Believed
- When I began writing these pages I believed their subject to be children, the ones we have and the ones we wish we had, the… Acquaintance
- You have your wonderful memories," people said later, as if memories were solace. Memories are not. Memories are by definition of times past, things gone.… Cards
- What does it cost to lose those weeks, that light, the very nights in the year preferred over all others? Can you evade the dying… All
- Let me just be in the ground. Let me just be in the ground and go to sleep. Go
- Vanish. Pass into nothingness: the Keats line that frightened her. Fade as the blue nights fade, go as the brightness goes. Go back into the… Already Behind
- Why do you always have to be right. Why do you always have to have the last word. For once in your life just let… Go
- I know what "nothing" means, and keep on playing. Funny
- In theory momentos serve to bring back the moment. In fact they serve only to make clear how inadequately I appreciated the moment when it… Afford
- The fear is for what is still to be lost. Fear
- As a writer, even as a child, long before what I wrote began to be published, I developed a sense that meaning itself was resident… Began
- I know what the fear is. The fear is not for what is lost. What is lost is already in the wall. What is lost… Already Behind
- Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment… Afflicted
- It occurs to me that we allow ourselves to imagine only such messages as we need to survive. Allow
- I am a writer. Imagining what someone would say or do comes to me as naturally as breathing. Breathing
- Grammar is a piano I play by ear. Ear
- A single person is missing for you, and the whole world is empty. Empty
- There was a level on which I believed that what had happened remained reversible Believed
- We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered… Alike
- Was there ever in anyone's life span a point free in time, devoid of memory, a night when choice was any more than the sum… All
- The secret point of money and power in America is neither the things that money can buy nor power for power's sake... but absolute personal… Able
- To have that sense of one's intrinsic worth which constitutes self-respect is potentially to have everything. Confidence
- I am always writing to myself. Always Writing
- Writing nonfiction is more like sculpture, a matter of shaping the research into the finished thing. Novels are like paintings, specifically watercolors. Every stroke you… Course
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