Fannie Hurst - Anatomy of me (1958)

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A dirge old as the human race is vested in those broken words — if only.

Fannie Hurst

I have learned, in the dark hours since, not to grieve because he is gone but to thank god and rejoice because I have had him — and still have him... My love is dead. Long live my love.

Fannie Hurst

I was a word lapidary, interested not so much in their values as in their colors. Ruby was a word that glowed. Serene was like a pearl.

Fannie Hurst

Mama... wore herself on the outside. Everything about her hung in view like peasant adobe houses with green peppers and little shrines, drying diapers and cooking utensils, on the façade.

Fannie Hurst

I would rather regret what I have done than what I have not.

Fannie Hurst

The grand canyon which yawns between the writer's concept of what he wants to capture in words and what comes through is a cruel abyss.

Fannie Hurst

There is no adequate definition for creative writing, any more than it is possible to describe pain or flavor or color.

Fannie Hurst