Life goes one way only, and whatever opinions you hold about the past have nothing to do with anything but your own damn weakness. Nothing changes what already happened. It will always have happened....
It was simple, and not one she’d ever found the strength to follow. The idea was, the you you are with others is not you. To be lonesome is to be who you most fully are. And also maybe something about...
It is a bad idea to live too long. Few carry it off well.
In the end, he said he judged the Bible to be a sound book. Nevertheless, he wondered why the white people were not better than they are, having had it for so long. He promised that just as soon as wh...
If every generation helps the next take one step up, imagine where we might all be someday.
If I had a brother in jail and one in Georgia, I'd try to bust the one out of Georgia first.
Identity, though, is a difficult matter to tease out, especially in a time of flux. How to tell a spaniel from a retriever when all dogs have become middle-sized and brown? Should we go by some arbitr...
I wonder what people talk about who've destroyed their lives with addictions other than books and politics and money and war.
I won't go into it any further, other than to say that year by year the world darkens down and things are always going away.
He was himself a case in point, and perhaps not a rare one, for his spirit, it seemed, had been burned out of him but he was yet walking.
Ask her what she craved, and she'd get a little frantic about things like books, the woods, music. Plants and the seasons. Also freedom. Not being bought and sold by some idiot employer, not having th...
Ask her what she craved and she'd get a little frantic about things like books, the woods, music. Plants and the seasons. Also freedom.
And also forever too late for Lily to learn that raging passion predicts nothing but a mess of bad news for everybody.
Among themselves, they had figured out how to go about marriage so as to accomplish the least damage. The husbands lived two hours away...
After years of loss and reflection, your old deluded decisions click together like the works of a watch packed tight within its case--many tiny, turning, interlocking wheels....the force of every deci...
After she had licked the last white drop of the ice cream, she reached out her cone to Mrs. McKennet and said, Here's your little horn back.
She knew in her heart that nature has a preference for a particular order: parents die, then children die. But it was a harsh design, offering little relief from pain, for being in accord with it mean...
You’ll find that as you grow old, you stop bothering to hide the self you’ve been all along.
V drifts into talking about generations. How grandparents and grandchildren so often get along very well. Remove one generation—twenty-five years at least—and the anger in both directions dissipates....
So, a little morphine, a good sweat, and a bowel movement—the cure for everything that ails you.