I wished for eternal and intriguing muteness. I would be the Mysterious Dumb Girl, the Enigmatic Elf. The human voice no longer interested me.
We had put almost all of our possessions in storage, which was a metaphor for being twenty, as were so many things.
If you had forgotten, it would quickly come back to you. Aloneness was like riding a bike. At gunpoint. With the gun in your own hand. Aloneness was the air in your tires, the wind in your hair. You d...
If you were alone when you were born, alone when you were dying, really absolutely alone when you were dead, why learn to be alone in between? If you had forgotten, it would quickly come back to you....
It broke her heart that they had come to this: if one knew the future, all the unexpected glimpses of the beloved, one might have trouble finding the courage to go on. This was probably the reason nin...
It's a fast but wimpy tumor, he explains. It typically metastasizes to the lung. He rattles off some numbers, time frames, risk statistics. Fast but wimpy: the Mother tries to imagine this combination...
It's a form of terrorism not to bomb this town.
Jane gave Heffie an anxious look. It said Please forgive me. It also said What is your problem? and Have a nice day Pleasantness was the machismo of the Midwest. There was something athletic about it....
Küçük bir sinek vızlayıp kulağımın yanından geçti, sonra kayboldu. Daha önce hiç Noel'de sinek görmemiştim; Sanat 102 dersinde hissetmemiz öğretildiği gibi, iki tanıdık şeyin beklenmedik şekilde yan y...
When you find out who you are, you will no longer be innocent. That will be sad for others to see. All that knowledge will show on your face and change it. But sad only for others, not for yourself. Y...
Living did not mean one joy piled upon another. It was merely the hope for less pain, hope played like a playing card upon another hope, a wish for kindness and mercies to emerge like kings and queens...
Love is a fever, she said. And when you come out of it you'll discover whether you've been lucky - or not.
Love is the answer, said the songs, and that's OK. It was OK, I supposed, as an answer. But no more than that. It was not a solution; it wasn't really even an answer, just a reply.
Which is it, she asked. Is it CLIToris or clotORis? I didn't know. Why didn't I know? It may depend on which you have, I said.
She kept wandering in and out of the rooms, wondering where she had put things. She went downstairs into the basement for no reason at all except that it amused her to own a basement. It also amused h...
She looked pink and beseeching, though essentially she looked the same, as people do despite the fact they have begun to turn into monsters and are about to tell you something that should require horn...
You only live at once. Which seemed to her all the more reason to be careful, to take it easy, to have an ordinary life.
The people in this house, I felt, and I included myself, were like characters each from a different grim and gruesome fairy tale. None of us was in the same story. We were all grotesques, and self-riv...
The piece was like an elegant interrogation made of tangled yarn, a query from a well-dressed man in a casket, not yet dead. It proceeded slowly, like a careful equation, and then not: if x = y, if ma...
The thing to remember about love affairs, says Simone, is that they are all like having raccoons in your chimney....
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