
The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis

I told myself I liked the way cowboys dressed, starting with the hat, and how comfortable they were in their clothes, so practical, having to do with their work. Many professors seem to dress the way they think a professor should dress, without any real interest or love.
Lydia Davis • The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis
Wassilly, suddenly enlightened, saw that there was a terrible discrepancy between his conception of himself and the reality. He admired himself and at times felt slightly superior to others, not because of what he really was and what he had really done with himself, but rather because of what he could do, what he would soon do, what he would accomp
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There was a strange gap between volition and action: sitting at his desk, before his work but not working, he dreamt of perfection in many things, and this exhilarated him. But when he took one step toward that perfection, he faltered in the face of its demands.
Lydia Davis • The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis
She walks home and shops for food with a sort of forced tranquillity, as though if she moves too quickly something will break.
Lydia Davis • The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis
When in moments of difficult truth-seeking he saw this incongruity, he felt sick that he should be saddled with himself, as though he were his own unwanted guest.
Lydia Davis • The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis
Once it was a young girl who entered the kitchen suddenly in a gust of wind, pale, thin, and strange, like a stray thought.
Lydia Davis • The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis
The moment when a limit is reached, when there is nothing ahead but darkness: something comes in to help that is not real. Another way all this is like madness: a mad person not helped out of his trouble by anything real begins to trust what is not real because it helps him and he needs it because real things continue not to help him.
Lydia Davis • The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis
In general she likes to be accompanied by men: they offer protection both because of their large size and because of their rational outlook on the world.
Lydia Davis • The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis
In spite of being drunk, she can still hold on to some things in her mind, though with an effort. She sees how well she is holding on to things and thinks that she is still smart. She thinks about how her smartness doesn’t seem to count for much anymore, the way it used to. Her smartness has counted for less and less as she has grown older.