The main difference between twenty-one and fifty-one, he decided, the sheer volume of regret.
Someone—probably Sayid—had written Sartre: Hell is other people in pen inside one of the caravans, and someone else had scratched out other people and substituted flutes.
So maybe a fairer way of putting this would be to say that adulthood’s full of ghosts. I’m sorry, I’m not sure I quite— I’m talking about these people who’ve ended up in one life instead of another an...
By this point he’s twenty-eight, time speeding up in a way that disconcerts him, the parties going too late and getting too sloppy, waiting in the ER on two separate occasions for news of friends who’...
You remembered. Of course, Clark said. That’s one thing I like about birthdays, they stay in one place. Same spot on the calendar, year in, year out. But the years keep going faster, have you noticed?
You can't argue with them, because they live by an entirely different logic.
When you think of how the world’s changed in your lifetime, what do you think about? I think of killing. Her gaze was steady. Really? Why? Have you ever had to do it? François sighed. He didn’t like t...
What’s the point of doing all that work, Tesch asks, if no one sees it? It makes me happy. It’s peaceful, spending hours working on it. It doesn’t really matter to me if anyone else sees it.
We have been lost for so long,’ she said, still quoting from that scene. She looked past him at the boy. The boy was staring at the gun in his hands. He was nodding, seemingly to himself. ‘We long o...
This was something he adored about her, the way she let things go so easily. What a pleasant state of affairs, he’d been thinking lately, to be with a woman who didn’t hold a grudge.
This was actually the main difference between twenty-one and fifty-one, he decided, the sheer volume of regret.
This is my soul and the world unwinding, this is my heart in the still winter air. Finally whispering the same two words over and over: Keep walking. Keep walking. Keep walking.
They are always waiting, the people of the Undersea. They spend all their lives waiting for their lives to begin.
They acted because they loved acting, but also, let’s be honest here, to be noticed. All they wanted was to be seen. I’ve been thinking lately about immortality. What it means to be remembered, what I...
There was a reminder that the library was always seeking books, and that they paid in wine. The librarian, François Diallo, was also the newspaper’s
The first sentence of the assassin’s note rang true: we were not meant for this world. I returned to my city, to my shattered life and damaged home, to my loneliness, and tried to forget the sweetness...
Survival might be insufficient, she’d told Dieter in late-night arguments, but on the other hand, so was Shakespeare.
So we ask them who they are, and their leader smiles at me and says, ‘We are the light.’
She had once met an old man up near Kincardine who’d sworn that the murdered follow their killers to the grave, and she was thinking of this as they walked, the idea of dragging souls across the lands...
It's like the corporate world's full of ghosts … maybe a fairer way of putting this would be to say that adulthood's full of ghosts … these people who've ended up in one life instead of another and th...