It is only through disruptions and confusion that we grow, jarred out of ourselves by the collision of someone else's private world with our own.
Joyce Carol OatesThe brain is a muscle of busy hills, the struggle of unthought things with things eternally thought.
Joyce Carol OatesOur house is made of glass... and our lives are made of glass; and there is nothing we can do to protect ourselves.
Joyce Carol OatesA mouth of no distinction but well practiced, before I entered my teens, in irony. For what is irony but the repository of hurt? And what is hurt but the repository of hope?
Joyce Carol Oates