She had not expected, out in the world, to find herself quite so much the wrong sort of person.

Happy is what you realize you are a fraction of a second before it's too late.

Every great narrative is at least two narratives, if not more - the thing that is on the surface and then the things underneath which are invisible.

Books mean all possibilities. They mean moving out of yourself, losing yourself, dying of thirst and living to your full. They mean everything.

I wouldn't call my work Modernist. I would rust if I try to think about labels. I'd feel like the Tin Man in 'The Wizard of Oz.

To be known so well by someone is an unimaginable gift. But to be imagined so well by someone is even better.

Oh. To be filled with goodness then shattered by goodness, so beautifully mosaically fragmented by such shocking goodness.

Stella Duffy is a writer who never lets you down.

Do you come to art to be comforted, or do you come to art to be re-skinned?

We'd never expect to understand a piece of music on one listen, but we tend to believe we've read a book after reading it just once.

Short stories consume you faster. They're connected to brevity. With the short story, you are up against mortality. I know how tough they are as a form, but they're also a total joy.

Love is a two-way street, but not everyone deserves a license.

Empathy is a hand thick with scars offering you a bandage.

Be sure that you give the poor the aid they most need, though it be your example which leaves them far behind. If you give money, spend yourself with it, and do not merely abandon it to them.

When you build a career, you should never imitate anybody.

Some of the secret joys of living are not found by rushing from point A to point B, but by inventing some imaginary letters along the way.

As always after drinking too much, I felt like my own ghost trying to take it's first solo walk outside the body.

My childhood was very colourful, and I am very good friends with both my parents. We have no secrets.

Bandwagons roll through our lives. Its up to you whether you jump on them unquestioningly or jump on them to overturn them and subvert them.

The late philosopher Morris R. Cohen of CCNY was asked by a student in the metaphysics course, Professor Cohen, how do I know that I exist? The keen old prof replied, And who is asking?

Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence. Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance.