287 Quotes by Lauren Groff

A woman growing like a goldfish to the size of her bowl, the only escape the final leap.

Fiction is always a utopian task, in that there’s an ideal you hold in your head as you write which inevitably fails in the moment of creation, in the insufficiency of words to convey meaning, or in the way the work is completed in the reader’s head.

One day you’ll wake up and realize your favorite person has turned into a person-shaped cloud.

She hated perfume. It was a cover for poor hygiene or for body shame. Clean people never aspired to the floral.

The wolf spun, settled in her chest, snored there.

Horrible to think that inside a human being there could be a human being. A separate brain thinking its separate thoughts.

It would probably be softer, less muscular, like sexual yoga. It’d at least be novel.

She would spend all weekend alone in the bathtub with a book and a bottle of wine. She could be happy growing old, moving among people when she wanted, but alone.

Lotto once said to her, and she laughed and conceded that she was. She wasn’t sure just then if she was telling the truth or if she was lying. Great.