Your numbness is something perhaps you cannot help. It is what the world has done to you. But your coldness. That is what you do to the world. Lorrie Moore More Quotes by Lorrie Moore More Quotes From Lorrie Moore Women now were told not to settle for second best, told that they deserved better, but at a time, it seemed, when there was so much less to go around. Lorrie Moore second-best settling It was not miserable - often I did not miss her at all. But there was sometimes a quick, sinking ache when I walked in the door and saw she was not there. Twice, however, I'd felt the same sinking feeling when she was. Lorrie Moore sinking-feeling missing doors One should never turn one's back on a vivid imagination. Lorrie Moore vivid-imagination turns should Those are the love killers. They love you and then they kill you. They're from another planet. Supposedly. Lorrie Moore killers planets love-you I always do the wrong. I do the wrong thing so much that the times I actually do the right thing stand out so brightly in my memory that I forget I always do the wrong thing. Lorrie Moore standing-out forget memories When you were six you thought mistress meant to put your shoes on the wrong feet. Now you are older and know it can mean many things, but essentially it means to put your shoes on the wrong feet. Lorrie Moore shoes feet mean I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable about this," he says. Say: "Hey. I am a very cool person. I am tough." Show him your bicep. Lorrie Moore cool-person hey want She smiled at him, with longing. 'Where do you live,' she asked, 'and how do I get there? Lorrie Moore longing I always had the sense with her that she didn't suffer fools gladly but that life was taking great pains to show her how. Lorrie Moore fool pain suffering When you find out who you are, you will no longer be innocent. That will be sad for others to see. All that knowledge will show on your face and change it. But sad only for others, not for yourself. You will feel you have a kind of wisdom, very mistaken, but a mistake of some power to you and so you will sadly treasure it and grow it. Lorrie Moore treasure faces mistake Love is art, not truth. It’s like painting scenery. Lorrie Moore painting love-is art No matter that you anticipate a thing; you get so used to it as part of the future that its actuality, its arrival, its force and presence, startles you, takes you by surprise, as would a ghost suddenly appearing in the room wearing familiar perfume and boots. Lorrie Moore boots matter rooms I want to pretend there's such a thing as requited love. As the endurance of love. Lorrie Moore endurance want An agony. The exit like the entrance - but reserved. A palindrome: gut-tug. Lorrie Moore agony exit heartbreak Perhaps she drives men away. Perhaps, without even being able to help herself, she just puts men into her ill-tempered car and drives them off: to quarries, dumps, small anonymous bodies of water. Lorrie Moore car water men Later I would come to believe that erotic ties were all a spell, a temporary psychosis, even a kind of violence, or at least they coexisted with these states. Lorrie Moore psychosis believe sex My new apartment might be a place where there are lots of children. They might gather on my porch to play, and when I step out for groceries, they will ask me, "Hi, do you have any kids?" and then, "Why not, don't you like kids?" "I like kids," I will explain. "I like kids very much." And when I almost run over them with my car, in my driveway, I will feel many different things. Lorrie Moore running kids children Blasts from the past were like the rooms one entered and re-entered in dreams: they would not stay nailed down. When you returned to them, they had changed - they suddenly had more space or a tilt or a door that had not been there before. New people were milling around, the floors undulated, and the sun shone newly, strangely in the windows, or through the now blasted-open ceiling, or else it shone not at all, as if having fled the sky. Lorrie Moore dream doors past Don't make your own life your project in your own life: total waste of time. Lorrie Moore wasting-time projects waste It was like the classic scene in the movies where one lover is on the train and one is on the platform and the train starts to pull away, and the lover on the platform begins to trot along and then jog and then sprint and then gives up altogether as the train speeds irrevocably off. Except in this case I was all the parts: I was the lover on the platform, I was the lover on the train. And I was also the train. Lorrie Moore classic giving-up lovers
