She recognized the panic at even a moment's boredom that all these piles contained, as well as the unreasonable hopefulness regarding time.
She should stay here with him, unorphan him with love's unorphaning, live wise and simple in a world monstrous enough for years of whores and death, and poems of whores and death, so monstrous how cou...
She tried to smile warmly but wondered if she looked fakey, something Ariel sometimes accused her of. Ariel had said. It's like you're trying to be happy out of a book. Millie owned several books abou...
She was wearing an old summer dress as a nightgown, but in the mornings it could work as a dress again, if you just tossed a cardigan over it and put on shoes. In this risky manner, she knew, insanity...
She would try to live life one day at a time, like an alcoholic--drink, don't drink, drink. Perhaps she should take drugs.
She would turn from him in bed, her hands under the pillow, the digital clock peeling back the old skins of numbers.
So much urgent and lifelike love went rumbling around underground and died there, never got expressed at all, so let some errant inconvenient attraction have its way. There was so little time
Sometimes it seemed that she and rudy were two people attempting to tango, sweating and trying, long after the orchestra had grown tired, long after everyone else had gone home.
Surely that was why faith had been invented: to raise teenagers without dying. Although of course it was also why death was invented: to escape teenagers altogether.
Surrealism could not be made up. It was the very electricity of the real.
What was education for, if not to acquire contradictions? At least it looked like that to me.
Tell him not to smoke in your apartment. Tell him to get out. At first he protests. But slowly, slowly, he leaves, pulling up the collar on his expensive beige raincoat, like an old and haggard Robert...
Things, I know, stiffen and shift in memory, become what they never were before. As when an army takes over a country. Or a summer yard goes scarlet with fall and its venous leaves. One summons the ye...
That's not the one you were thinking of? No. There was accusation in her voice. Mine was different,
The ants are my friends- they're blowing in the wind
The catalog showed a man sleeping peacefully while his model-wife read a book in soft but focused light. In real life, however, the light was so intense that the same man would have had to wear sungla...
Women now were told not to settle for second best, told that they deserved better, but at a time, it seemed, when there was so much less to go around.
The functional disenchantment, the sweet habit of each other, had begun to put lines around her mouth, lines that looked like quotation marks--as if everything she said had already been said before......
The key to marriage, she concluded, was just not to take the thing too personally.
The later-afternoon air of our exhalations hung in brief clouds before us. The thought balloon of my own breath said, How have I found myself here? It was not a theological question. It was one of tra...
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