Top 380 Joan Didion Quotes (2024 Update)
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251. “Writers are always selling somebody out.”

— Joan Didion

252. “He would say something and she would say something and before either of them knew it they would be playing out a dialogue so familiar that it drained the imagination, blocked the will, allowed them to drop words and whole sentences and still arrive at the cold conclusion.”

— Joan Didion

253. “I suppose everything had changed and nothing had.”

— Joan Didion

254. “Details are our business as writers. Your heart leaps when you see a detail that can go somewhere.”

— Joan Didion

255. “Until now I had been able only to grieve, not mourn. Grief was passive. Grief happened.”

— Joan Didion

256. “It is a good idea, then, to keep in touch, and I suppose that keeping in touch is what notebooks are all about.”

— Joan Didion

257. “It’s just a deep pleasure to read something you’ve written yourself – if and when you like it.”

— Joan Didion

258. “Had he not warned me when I forgot my own notebook that the ability to make a note when something came to mind was the difference between being able to write and not being able to write?”

— Joan Didion

259. “Making judgments on films is in many ways so peculiarly vaporous an occupation that the only question is why, beyond the obvious opportunities for a few lectures fees and a little careerism at a dispiritingly self-limiting level, anyone does it in the first place.”

— Joan Didion

260. “You had to feel the swell change. You had to go with the change.”

— Joan Didion

261. “In theory these mementos serve to bring back the moment. In fact they serve only to make clear how inadequately I appreciated the moment when it was here. How inadequately I appreciated the moment when it was here is something else I could never afford to see.”

— Joan Didion

262. “You have your wonderful memories,” people said later, as if memories were solace. Memories are not. Memories are by definition of times past, things gone. Memories are the Westlake uniforms in the closet, the faded and cracked photographs, the invitations to the weddings of the people who are no longer married, the mass cards from the funerals of the people whose faces you no longer remember. Memories are what you no longer want to remember.”

— Joan Didion

263. “In New Orleans the wilderness is sensed as very near, not the redemptive wilderness of the western imagination but something rank and old and malevolent, the idea of wilderness not as an escape from civilization and its discontents but as a mortal threat to a community precarious and colonial in its deepest aspect. The effect is lively and avaricious and intensely self-absorbed, a tone not uncommon in colonial cities, and the principal reason I find such cities invigorating.”

— Joan Didion

264. “About the cathouse: the notion that an accepted element in the social order is a whorehouse goes hand in hand with the woman on a pedestal.”

— Joan Didion

265. “Yet I was myself in no way prepared to accept this news as final: there was a level on which I believed that what had happened remained reversible. That was why I needed to be alone. After.”

— Joan Didion

266. “She was the right girl at the right time. She had only a small repertory of Child ballads, never trained her pure soprano and annoyed some purists because she was indifferent to the origins of her material and sang everything ‘sad’.”

— Joan Didion

267. “Sometime in the night she had moved into a realm of miseries peculiar to women, and she had nothing to say to Carter.”

— Joan Didion

268. “I hadn’t thought that I was generally a pack rat, but it turns out I am.”

— Joan Didion

269. “The stories are endless, infinitely familiar, traded by the faithful like baseball cards, fondled until they fray around the edges and blur into the apocryphal.”

— Joan Didion

270. “I have been looking all my life for history and have yet to find it.”

— Joan Didion

271. “I always had trouble distinguishing between what happened and what merely might have happened, but I remain unconvinced that the distinction, for my purposes, matters.”

— Joan Didion

272. “Americans are uneasy with their possessions, guilty about power, all of which is difficult for Europeans to perceive because they are themselves so truly materialistic, so versed in the uses of power.”

— Joan Didion

273. “Perhaps most strikingly of all, it was clear in 1988 that those inside the process had congealed into a permanent political class, the defining characteristic of which was its readiness to abandon those not inside the process.”

— Joan Didion

274. “I do have a strong sense of an order in the universe.”

— Joan Didion

275. “Yet I had always at some level apprehended, because I was born fearful, that some events in life would remain beyond my ability to control or manage them. Some events would just happen.”

— Joan Didion

276. “What seemed novel about the use of focus groups in the 1992 campaign was the increasingly narrow part of the population to which either party was interested in listening, and the extent to which this extreme selectivity had transformed the governing of the country, for most of its citizens, into a series of signals meant for someone else.”

— Joan Didion

277. “New people could be seen, by people like my grandfather, as indifferent to everything that had made California work, but the ambiguity was this: new people were also who were making California rich.”

— Joan Didion

278. “What you’re normally doing as a writer is trying to find the narrative.”

— Joan Didion

279. “Somehow writing has always seemed to me to have an element of performance.”

— Joan Didion

280. “Before I’d written movies, I never could do big set-piece scenes with a lot of different speakers – when you’ve got twelve people around a dinner table talking at cross purposes. I had always been impressed by other people’s ability to do that.”

— Joan Didion

281. “All one’s actual apprehension of what it is like to be a woman, the irreconcilable difference of it – that sense of living one’s deepest life underwater, that dark involvement with blood and birth and death – could now be declared in valid, unnecessary, one never felt it at all.”

— Joan Didion

282. “When we lose that sense of the possible we lose it fast.”

— Joan Didion

283. “So now the girl whose life is a crystal teardrop has her own place, a place where the sun shines and the ambiguities can be set aside a little while longer, a place where everyone can be warm and loving and share confidences.”

— Joan Didion

284. “I went because I was interested in the alchemy of issues.”

— Joan Didion

285. “They who came to California were not the self-satisfied, happy and content people, but the adventurous, the restless, and the daring. They were different even from those who settled in other western states. They didn’t come west for homes and security, but for adventure and money. They pushed in over the mountains and founded the biggest cities in the west.”

— Joan Didion

286. “I know what ‘nothing’ means, and I keep on playing. Why, BZ would say. Why not, I say.”

— Joan Didion

287. “I was no longer, if I had ever been, afraid to die: I was now afraid not to die.”

— Joan Didion

288. “I could talk more directly in a nonfiction voice than I could in fiction.”

— Joan Didion

289. “As it happens I am comfortable with the Michael Laskis of this world, with those who live outside rather than in, those in whom the sense of dread is so acute that they turn to extreme and doomed commitments; I know something about dread myself, and appreciate the elaborate systems with which some people manage to fill the void, appreciate all the opiates of the people, whether they are as accessible as alcohol and heroin and promiscuity or as hard to come by as faith in God or History.”

— Joan Didion

290. “How could this have happened when everything was normal?”

— Joan Didion

291. “To do without self-respect, on the other hand, is to be an unwilling audience of one to an interminable home movie that documents one’s failings, both real and imagined, with fresh footage spliced in for each screening.”

— Joan Didion

292. “I came into adult life equipped with an essentially romantic ethic.”

— Joan Didion

293. “My only advantage as a reporter is that I am so physically small, so temperamentally unobtrustive, and so neurotically inarticulate that people tend to forget that my presence runs counter to their best interests. And it always does. That is one last thing to remember: writers are always selling somebody out.”

— Joan Didion

294. “It occurred to me almost constantly in the South that had I lived there I would have been an eccentric and full of anger, and I wondered what form the anger would have taken. Would I have taken up causes, or would I have simply knifed somebody?”

— Joan Didion

295. “Death,” he wrote, “so omnipresent in the past that it was familiar, would be effaced, would disappear. It would become shameful and forbidden.”

— Joan Didion

296. “Burroughs’s voice is hard, derisive, inventive, free, funny, serious, poetic, indelibly American.”

— Joan Didion

297. “To be a white middle-class child in a small southern town must be on certain levels the most golden way for a child to live in the United States.”

— Joan Didion

298. “Later those few minutes in the plaza in Oxnard would come back to Maria and she would replay them, change the scenario. It ended that way badly, or well, depending on what you wanted.”

— Joan Didion

299. “More than anyone else in the society, these men had apparently dreamed the dream and made it work. And what they did then was to build a place which seems to illustrate, as in a child’s primer, that the production ethic led step by step to unhappiness, to restrictiveness, to entrapment in the mechanics of living.”

— Joan Didion

300. “At a point during the summer it occurred to me that I had no letters from John, not one. We had only rarely been far or long apart.”

— Joan Didion