Quotes from Louise Erdrich

I have never seen the truth," said Damien, "without crossing my eyes. Life is crazy.

couldn't do the touch for Grandpa, though. He was a hard nut. You know, some people fall right through the hole in their lives.

You can never get enough of the ones you love, thought Thomas, rubbing his chest slowly, to vanquish the pains. "Here I have Biboon with me to this great old age, but I am greedy. I want him longer.

Things started going wrong, as far as Zhaanat was concerned, when places everywhere were named for people—political figures, priests, explorers—and not for the real things that happened in these places—the dreaming, the eating, the death, the appearance of animals.

But every so often the government remembered about Indians. And when they did, they always tried to solve Indians, thought Thomas. They solve us by getting rid of us.

The Larks are the sort of people who trot out their relationships with "good Indians," whom they secretly despise and openly patronize, in order to prove their general love for Indians, whom they are engaged in cheating.

So as usual, by getting rid of us, the Indian problem would be solved. Overnight the tribal chairman job had turned into a struggle to remain a problem. To not be solved.

They haven't got to you. They'll come around yet. It's in their religion to change Indians into whites." "I thought that was a government job." "It's in their holy book. The more we pray, the lighter we get." "I could stand to drop a few pounds." "Not that kind of lighter," Martin laughed. "They think if you follow their ways your skin will bleach out. They call it lightsome and gladsome.

The buffalo provided the fuel for fires that smoked their own meat.

One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh, but the earth abideth forever.

Went outside to answer Snowy Owl's question, Who? Owl not satisfied with answer.

thinking with my tears. Yes, tears can be thoughts, why not?

I reached over and held Pollux's wide hand as we slowly drove along. There was a slick of rain on the empty, peaceful streets. 'Why can't it always be this way?' I asked Pollux. He gave me an odd look. I turned aside. The empty street swished beneath the tires. Perhaps I should have been ashamed. Why was it that I felt this was the world I'd always waited for?

Who but an NDN would know that some days truth is a ghost who shouts in the voice of no one in particular and other days it is a secret nostalgia poured into the coffee cups of the living?

Pain comes to us from deep back, from where it grew in the human body. Pain sucks more pain into it, we don't know why. It lives, and we harbor its weight. When the worst comes, we will not act the opposite. We will do what we were taught, we who learnt our lessons in the dead light. We pass them on. We hurt, and hurt others, in a circular motion.

Hildegarde stood, scratched her nose, an act for which she must later say a penance.

Outside, the snow drifted down the layers of air, flake by flake. Watching the snow glide down put Patrice into a trance

This time, the rapids sent them through a dark tunnel that seemed timeless, blind, malevolent. A yawning throat of water.

I'll be the night watchman," said Patrice, and went out to get the ax.

On this stretch of highway he was afflicted. It felt as if his heart was being pierced by long sharp needles. He flashed on his father, the two of them sitting in late sunshine, gathering its fugitive warmth.

Nector got even by the use of penmanship.

When I creep into our bed, there is the joy and relief of a person entering a secret dimension. Here, I shall be useless. The world can go on without me. Here I shall be held by love.

The black sky was a poem beyond meaning.

At any rate those two, one the shadow of a shadow in the hall and the other a shadow also, an imitation of the ruthless man who'd stolen from the world with careless ease, both poised, caught in time.