Quotes from Dorianne Laux

And I saw it didn't matter who had loved me or who I loved. I was alone. The black oily asphalt, the slick beauty of the Iranian attendant, the thickening clouds—nothing was mine. And I understood finally, after a semester of philosophy, a thousand books of poetry, after death and childbirth and the startled cries of men who called out my name as they entered me, I finally believed I was alone, felt it in my actual, visceral heart, heard it echo like a thin bell.

I've arrived at a time in my life when I could believe almost anything.

Possible, unthinkable, the cricket's tiny back as I lie on the lawn in the dark, my heart a blue cup fallen from someone's hands.

I want to stay on the back porch while the world tilts toward sleep, until what I love misses me, and calls me in.

as if nothing had happened— as if everything mattered—What else could I do?

I love people and psychology. As a writer, I'm not so interested in Fred getting from the living room to the car. I want to go inside Fred's soul and play there.