“My parents came from Calcutta. They arrived in Cambridge, much like th...” — Jhumpa Lahiri Quote

My parents came from Calcutta. They arrived in Cambridge, much like the parents in my novel. And I found myself sort of caught between the world of my parents and the world they had left behind and still clung to, and also the world that surrounded me at school and everywhere else, as soon as I set foot out the door.

I always wanted to grow up in a house full of books, English books, and I wanted the sort of fireplaces that worked, overstuffed chairs, that whole kind of fantasy of a bookish New England life. So the library gave me that; for the hours that I was there, I was surrounded by that atmosphere that I craved in my life.

In fiction, plenty do the job of conveying information, rousing suspense, painting characters, enabling them to speak. But only certain sentences breathe and shift about, like live matter in soil.

I was always aware of what the language I was using meant in terms of my bond with my parents - how it defined the lines of affection between us. When I spoke English, I felt I wasn't completely their child any more but the child of another language.

My parents immigrated to California from Mexico in the 1960s in search of a better life. They arrived from different regions of Mexico with little formal education, but a tremendous work ethic and big dreams.

I love kids. I always have. I was an only child until I was 12, and then my sister arrived.

I remember, when I arrived in England, a lot of people said that my style of play was not for England.

We have arrived at an intellectual chaos.

At Ellis Island, I mean, you didn't go there if you arrived in first class. It was only the poorest, the people in the worst shape.