My mind wandered to all those years of school portraits: the licked palms wrestling cowlicks under the pretense of a loving stroke; letting the boys watch a cartoon while sliding them into handsome, u...
Menachem’s problem was this: he had more money than there were things to buy. Menachem’s solution was this: rather than buy more things, he would continue to buy the things he already owned,
Love itself became the object of her love. She loved herself in love, she loved loving love, as love loves loving, and was able, in that way, to reconcile herself with a world that fell so short of wh...
La vergüenza es la sensación que nos invade cuando olvidamos casi por completo, pero no del todo, las expectativas sociales y nuestras obligaciones para con los otros, a cambio de nuestra satisfacción...
Kalkoenen leggen tegenwoordig hondertwintig eieren per jaar en kippen meer dan driehonderd. Dat is twee tot drie keer zo veel als in de natuur.
Jacob didn’t want to coerce or be coerced, but what was he supposed to do? Sit on his hands waiting for his grandfather to shatter his hip and die in a hospital room as every abandoned old person is d...
I’m here, Dr. Fein, because it upsets my mom that I’m having an impossible time with my life. Should it upset her? Not really. Life is impossible.
It’s very hard to have a productive dialogue with a thirteen-year-old boy, as every gently broached subject becomes an Ultimate Conversation, requiring defense systems and counterattacks to attacks th...
It's so cold in Yukatia, which is in Siberia, that breath instantly freezes with a crackling noise that they call the whispering of the stars. On extremely cold days, the towns are covered in a fog ca...
It was the first time I had ever made love. I wondered if he knew that. It felt like crying. I wondered, Why does anyone ever make love?
It was scary how quickly and completely his past could be rewritten, or overwritten. All those years felt worthwhile while they were happening, but only a few months on the other side of them and they...
It made me start to wonderif there were other people so loney so close. I thought about Eleanor Rigby. It's true, where do they all come from? And where do they all belong?
Isn't it weird how the number of dead people is increasing even though the earth stays the same size, so that one day there isn't going to be room to bury anyone anymore?
Isn't it so weird how the number of dead people is increasing, though the earth stays the same size, so that one day there isn't going to be a room to bury anyone anymore?
Isn't it so weird how the number of dead people is increasing even though the Earth stays the same size, so that one day there isn't going to be room to bury anyone anymore?
In the end, everyone loses everyone. There was no invention to get around that, and so I felt, that night, like the turtle that everything else in the universe was on top of.
In my dream, spring came after summer, came after fall, came after winter, came after spring.
In another place, their sons were killed between the barbs of their own guard wire, killed with misfired bombs while squirming in the mire like animals, killed with friendly fire, killed sometimes wit...
I've thought myself out of happinessone one million times, but never once into it.
I'm not sure if you would consider this a dream or a memory, because it actually happened, but when I fall asleep I see the room in which I mourned the death of my son. For those of you who were there...