“In every life there are events that reshape one's sense of existence. Afterward, all is different and the past is dimmed.”
Annie Proulx“Quoyle experienced moments in all colors, uttered brilliancies, paid attention to the rich sound of waves counting stones, he laughed and wept, noticed sunsets, heard music in rain, said I do.”
Annie Proulx“You should write because you love the shape of stories and sentences and the creation of different words on a page. Writing comes from reading, and reading is the finest teacher of how to write.”
Annie Proulx“And I think that's important to know how the water's gone over the dam before you start to describe it. It helps to have been over the dam yourself.”
E. Annie Proulx“In every life there are events that reshape one's sense of existence. Afterward, all is different and the past is dimmed.”
Annie Proulx, Barkskins“The thing American people fear about corporations is that they might achieve too much power. We have an antipathy to power even as we admire it.”
Annie Proulx, Barkskins“A kind of joyous hysteria moved into the room, everything flying before the wind, vehicles outside getting dented to hell, the crowd sweaty and the smells of aftershave, manure, clothes dried on the line, your money’s worth of perfume, smoke, booze; the music subdued by the shout and babble through the bass hammer could be felt through the soles of the feet, shooting up the channels of legs to the body fork, center of everything. It is the kind of Saturday night that torches your life for a few hours, makes it seem like something is happening.”
Annie Proulx, Close Range“We face up to awful things because we can't go around them, or forget them. The sooner you say 'Yes, it happened, and there's nothing I can do about it,' the sooner you can get on with your own life. You've got children to bring up. So you've got to get over it. What we have to get over, somehow we do. Even the worst things.”
Annie Proulx, The Shipping News“When the watermelons were as large as a child's head, the women boiled them, but they collapsed into a tasteless green mush that no one could eat, not the children, not the cow.”
Annie Proulx, Accordion Crimes