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Book: Anagrams
Quotes of Book: Anagrams

Lorrie Moore _ Anagrams
By about the sixth week the smallness of the class, and whatever makeshift intimacy had sprung up there, became suddenly oppressive to me… suddenly I wanted the anonymity of a large class, where class members did not really have faces and names and problems. In six weeks with Susan, Lodeme, Betty, Valerie, Ellen, Frances, Pat, Marie, Bridget, and Barney, {…} brought to the stubborn limits of our knowability, we were now left with the jagged scrape of our differences.
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Lorrie Moore _ Anagrams
She looked pink and beseeching, though essentially she looked the same, as people do despite the fact they have begun to turn into monsters and are about to tell you something that should require horns or fangs or vaulted eyebrows but never apparently does.
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Lorrie Moore _ Anagrams
A healthy death, like anything - job promotions or looking younger - was simply a matter of "feeling good about yourself." Which is where the sedatives came in. Sedate as a mint, a woman could place a happy hand on the shoulder of death and rasp out, "Waddya say, buddy, wanna dance?
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Lorrie Moore _ Anagrams
In the Dictionary 'lumpy jaw' comes just before 'lunacy,' but in life there are no such clues. Suddenly, for no reason, you might start to dribble from the mouth, to howl peevishly at the moon. You might start quoting your mother, out loud and with conviction. You might lose your friends to the most uninspired of deaths. You might one day wake up and find yourself teaching at a community college; there will have been nothing to warn you. You might say things to your students like, There is only one valid theme in literature: Life will disappoint you.
book-quote literature midlife-crisis disappointment
Lorrie Moore _ Anagrams
It's two against one out here; we just keep taking turns.
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Lorrie Moore _ Anagrams
All of life seems to me a strange dream about losing things you never had to begin with. About trying to find your glasses when you can't see because you don't have your glasses on.
book-quote life
Lorrie Moore _ Anagrams
She came to this California university for one reason, she reminds herself: the paycheck. Although every time the paycheck arrives the amount taken out in taxes for a single woman with no dependents is so huge it stuns her. The money starts to feel like an insult: For this, she thinks, I've uprooted my life? Whatever money she might save, moreover, she usually spends trying to console herself. And it is hard to make any job financially worth its difficulties, she realizes, when you're constantly running out to J. C. Penney's to buy bathmats.
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Lorrie Moore _ Anagrams
No, we're not getting married," I told my mother on the phone when she asked. "He's going to California and I'm staying here." Usually she doesn't phone. Usually she just does things like send me notes with histrionic scrawlings that read, "Well, you know, I can't use these," and along with the notes she encloses coupons for Kotex or Midol.
book-quote menopause
Lorrie Moore _ Anagrams
That was also back in the days when I thought the ice-cream man lived in his truck
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Lorrie Moore _ Anagrams
This is why a woman makes things up: Because when she dies, those lives she never got to are all going down with her. All those possibilities will just site there like a bunch of school kids with their hands raised and uncalled on--each knowing, really knowing, the answer.
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Lorrie Moore _ Anagrams
You have a choice," she told the class. "The whorish emptiness of lies or the straightlaced horrors of truth.
book-quote truth truth-and-lies
Lorrie Moore _ Anagrams
Sometimes as I'm drifting toward sleep, in the beginnings of that dissolution, I wonder where I am, when this is, and realize that at these moments I could be anywhere, anytime, for all I know: eight and napping in the trailer, my broken arm in a cast, or thirteen at night clutching a pillow to my neck, or twenty in the arms of my boyfriend, or twenty-seven in the arms of my husband, or thirty-three next to my imaginary daughter; at every place in the whole spinning shape that is my life, when I am falling asleep, I am the same person, the identical awareness, the same fuzzball of mind, the same muck of nerves, all along the line. I forage through my life and everywhere-there, there, and there-it is only me in it, the very same me, the same harmless lump, the same soggy weirdo, the same sleeping, breathing bun.
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