Whatever you do, with whom you do it or whether you do it alone, and when, and how, and why, to what mysterious end—it's balanced against nothing, against Death and forgetting. You balanced against oblivion.

Joyce Carol Oates

Joyce Carol Oates

Profession: Author
Nationality: American

Some suggestions for you :

You can think of your life as the mistakes you made that catch up with you finally.

It isn't the subjects we write about but the seriousness and subtlety of our expression that determines the worth of or effort.

You need so much energy and encouragement to write that if someone says something negative, some of that energy goes.

A man will reveal his true self, or so it seems, on the tennis court.

To be Jewish is to be specifically identified with a history. And if you're not aware of that when you're a child, the whole tradition is lost.

Truths are the last thing you learn about your family. By the time you learn, you're no longer their child.

All that matters in life is forging deep ties of love and family and friends. Writing and reading come later.

The most common misperception about me is that I write fast. I just write often. Every hour that I can.

Primarily, 'Black Girl/White Girl' is the story of two very different, yet somehow 'fated' girls; for Genna, her 'friendship' with Minette is the most haunting of her life, though it is one-sided and ends in tragedy.

A woman convinced against her will is of the same opinion still.

Every scar in my face is worth it.

The place where you came from ain't there any more, and where you had in mind to go is cancelled out. This place you are now—inside your daddy's house—is nothing but a cardboard box I can knock down any time. You know that and always did know it. You hear me?

The strangeness of Time. Not in its passing, which can seem infinite, like a tunnel whose end you can't see, whose beginning you've forgotten, but in the sudden realization that something finite, has passed, and is irretrievable.

The minutiae of our lives! Telephone calls, errands, appointments. None of these is of the slightest significance to others and but fleetingly to us yet they constitute such a portion of our lives, it might be argued that our lives are a concatenation of minutiae interrupted at unpredictable times by significant events.