And so the twins had remained virgins. Julia and Valentina watched all of their high school and college friends disappear one by one into the adult world of sex, until they were the only people they k...
Why has he gone where I cannot follow?
No. Valentina closed her eyes. Of course not. It’ll be great, Mouse. We’ll have our own apartment, we won’t have to work,
You're the oddest person I've ever met, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried.
…she smiles in an exhausted but warm sort of way, as though she is a brilliant sun in some other galaxy
Martin said, It feels as though part of my self has detached and gone to Amsterdam, where it—she—is waiting for me. Do you know about phantom-limb syndrome? Julia nodded. There's pain where she ought...
It's as though I'm a cloud, and he's expecting rain.
He made the boxes because he was lonely. He didn't have anyone to love, and he made the boxes so he could love them, and so people would know that he existed, and because birds are free and the boxes...
I’m suicidal just thinking about it.
I think about my mother singing after lunch on a Summer afternoon, twirling in blue dress across the floor of her dressing room
I raise my head and see a red illuminated EXIT sign and as my eyes adjust I see tigers, cavemen with long spears, cavewomen wearing strategically modest skins, wolfish dogs. My heart is racing and for...
How do you know? I mean, if I was making you up, and I didn't want you to know you were made up, I just wouldn't tell you, right?
Even her name seemed empty, as though it had detached itself from her and was floating untethered in his mind. How am I supposed to live without you? It was not a matter of the body; his body would ca...
To world enough and time.
Long ago, men went to sea, and women waited for them, standing on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship. Now I wait for Henry. He vanishes unwillingly, without warning. I wait...
I make books because I love them as objects; because I want to put the pictures and the words together, because I want to tell a story.
I love you always. Time is nothing.
Being in love is…anxious, he said. Wanting to please, worrying that she will see me as I really am. But wanting to be known. That is…you’re naked, moaning in the dark, no dignity at all…I wanted her t...
When I was young I didn't understand, but now, I know, how absence can be present, like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird.
My reflection in the mirror shows me pink and puffy. I thought pregnant women were to supposed to glow. I am not glowing.