Still, I am angry with him. I am very angry with him. With my poor dead defenseless husband, I am furious as I was rarely—perhaps never—furious with him, in life. How can I forgive you, you’ve ruined...
Sometimes people surprise us. People we believe we know.
So they'd fucked up her life, those guys she'd trusted, for fun. What the hell.
Remembering backward is the easy thing. If you could remember forward, you could save yourself...
On their own, your eyes did not naturally discover the sky.
Messes are made by people who want but don't know what they want, let alone how to get it.
Maybe all there is is just the next thing maybe all there is is just the next thing maybe all there is is just just the next just the next thing maybe all there is is just the next maybe all there is...
Katya laughed and shrugged. She was a hired girl; she said such things on order. Much of her life was this sort of semiskilled playing to other people, usually older people, with the hope of making th...
It feels good, honey, but it isn't love.
In all marriages there is the imbalance: one who loves more than the other. One who licks wounds in secret, the rust-taste of blood.
Ian...paused for a moment on the threshold and stared, overcome by a sudden sense of confronting, not the men and women who were his friends, but a gathering of souls. How strange we are to one anothe...
I wasn’t so special, honey. Except that I was your dad, I wasn’t so special.
Her visits to her former hometown were infrequent and often painful. Pilgrimages fueled by the tepid oxygen of family duty, unease, guilt. The more Esther loved her parents, the more helpless she felt...
Such speculation is like staring into the hot white sun. you know the sun is there but you can't see a thing.
I'm drawn to write about upstate New York in the way in which a dreamer might have recurring dreams. My childhood and girlhood were spent in upstate New York, in the country north of Buffalo and West...
Scintillant,
You keep asking me that, she said sharply. No. I don’t care to notify anyone. I can’t bear a crowd of relatives around me. I threw away that damned corset in a trash can. I won’t return to that. There
What is technique but the absence of passion?
Were you wounded when your marriage collapsed? When your love collapsed? Or does love never collapse, only just fade gradually away?
We never have time, do we, for all that we don’t exactly want to do.