You can get used to eating breakfast with a man in a fedora. You can get used to anything, my mother was in the habit of saying.
ANNE CARSONWords bounce. Words, if you let them, will do what they want to do and what they have to do.
More Anne Carson Quotes
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Love is a good place to situate our distrust of fake women.
ANNE CARSON -
I am kind of a curmudgeonly person, so I don’t gravitate to groups or traditions, which is probably just pretentious of me.
ANNE CARSON -
My religion makes no sense and does not help me therefore I pursue it.
ANNE CARSON -
When I began to be published, people got the idea that I should ‘teach writing,’ which I have no idea how to do and don’t really believe in.
ANNE CARSON -
It is when you are asking about something that you realize you yourself have survived it, and so you must carry it, or fashion it into a thing that carries itself.
ANNE CARSON -
I mean, every thought starts over, so every expression of a thought has to do the same. every accuracy has to be invented… I feel I am blundering in concepts too fine for me.
ANNE CARSON -
You doubt God? Well more to the point I credit God with the good sense to doubt me. What is mortality after all but divine doubt flashing over us? For an instant God suspends assent and poof! we disappear.
ANNE CARSON -
I never had much education in English poetry as such.
ANNE CARSON -
Life pulls softly inside your bindings. The pod glows – dear stench.
ANNE CARSON -
A man moves through time. It means nothing except that, like a harpoon, once thrown he will arrive.
ANNE CARSON -
Each night about this time he puts on sadness like a garment and goes on writing.
ANNE CARSON -
You used to say. “Desire doubled is love and love doubled is madness.” Madness doubled is marriage I added when the caustic was cool, not intending to produce a golden rule.
ANNE CARSON -
Poetry – poiesis means a thing made.
ANNE CARSON -
Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief.
ANNE CARSON -
The words we read and words we write never say exactly what we mean. The people we love are never just as we desire them. The two symbols never perfectly match. Eros is in between.
ANNE CARSON