We are under an invincible blindness as to the real and true nature of things
We're living longer, we social network alone with our , and our depth of feeling gets shallower. Soon it'll be nothing but a tide pool, then a thimble of water, then a .
Those around you can have their novellas, sweet, their short stories of cliché and coincidence, occasionally spiced up with tricks of the quirky, the achingly mundane, the grotesque. A few will even c...
Somewhere, nearby voices filled with dusk, cabs and panhandlers and one drunken girl screeching like a wounded bird - all of it flushed with a warmth and sad beauty I'd never noticed before.
Well, it doesn't look good. Makes me look like one of those unloved latchkey children they make after-school specials about.Don't sell yourself short. You're more Masterpiece Theatre.
Somewhere in a woman's room there is always something, an object, a detail, that is her, wholly and unapologetic.
All happy families resemble one another, but each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, and when it comes to the Holiday Season, happy families can abruptly become unhappy and unhappy families can...
When your child is seized by an idea with the zeal of a fundamentalist Bible salesman from Indiana, stand in his or her way at your own risk.
Is she sad? she asked.No, honey. She's lived-in.
It was cheerful inside, without the aggressive Easy Rider feel of some of the other tattoo parlors in the city, where the handle-jawed thugs wielding the tattoo guns looked like ink was just a side jo...
It was true. After our divorce, I'd ended up in a slight relationship with my last research assistant, Aurelia Feinstein, age 34-though let me state for the record it was not as hot as it sounded. Mak...
Wir sind alle Anthologien. Wir sind Tausende von Seiten lang, voller Märchen und Poesie, Geheimnisse und Tragödien und vergessener Geschichten ganz am Ende, die nie jemand lesen wird.
Not returning phone calls is the severest form of torture in the civilized world.
It was never the act itself but our own understanding of it that defeated us, over and over again.
…how monstrous the people you loved could be.
Life does not belong to you. It is the apartment you rent. Love without fear, for love is an airplane that carries you to new lands. There is a universe in silence. A tunnel to peace in a scream. Get...
We are all anthologies. We are each thousands of pages long, filled with fairy tales and poetry, mysteries and tragedy, forgotten stories in the back no one will ever read. The most we can do is hold...
She was flighty and poor, a French studies major who quoted Simone de Beauvoir. She wiped her runny nose on her coat sleeve when it was snowing, stuck her head out of car windows the way dogs do, the...
Making love to Aurelia was like rummaging through a card catalog in a deserted library, searching for one very obscure, little-read entry on Hungarian poetry.
I hate how the people who really you are the ones you can never hold on to for very long. And the ones who don’t understand you stick around.
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