They were stranded on the opposite sides of death, at least for now, and that was all there was to it.
Sometimes now was enough.Sometimes it was everything.
She had made reason and common sense her gods. She had allowed people who did not know what she knew or understand what she unstood to be her mentors.
She had held her life to an even keel by killing all deep feeling, by living upon the surface of life.
My woman. She had a momentary image of a caveman, hanging on to his woman by the hair with one hand while in the other he wielded a club to beat back caveman number two. Perhaps she would sketch it on...
Mentimos para convencer al mundo, y para convencernos a nosotros mismos, de que somos algo que no somos...
It is impossible to recapture innocence once it has been exposed for the illusion it is, she said.Illusion? He frowned. Why should innocence be more unreal, more untrue, than cynicism?I am not cynical...
Idleness was so often despised. And yet it was on idleness, she knew, that one touched meaning and peace.
Have you noticed, she asked him, how we live much of our lives in the past and most of the rest of it in the future? Have you noticed how often the present moment slips by quiet unnoticed?
But the things is, you see, that two people can never actually become one no matter how close they are. And it would not be desirable even if it were possible. What would happen when one of them died?...
But a mother-son relationship is not a coequal one, is it? He is lonely with only you just as you are lonely with only him.
And yet day and night meet fleetingly at twilight and dawn, he said, lowering his voice again and narrowing his eyes and moving his head a quarter of an inch closer to hers. And their merging sometime...
All is artifice in my world, Constantine. Even me. Especially me. He taught me to be a duchess, to be an impregnable fortress, to be the guardian of my own heart, But he admitted that he could not tea...
Fear is a powerful beast, if it is allowed the mastery.
—Ese es el inconveniente de los sueños, [...]No siempre se hacen realidad. Pero siempre aparecen nuevos sueños con los que reemplazar los antiguos. En el fondo somos una especie llena de esperanza.
¿Acaso existía el amor verdadero? La vida sería muy triste si no existiera... Enrealidad, sería insoportable si los desengaños del amor romántico convirtieran a una persona en una cínica incurable.
Played any sort of game. Ten.
It. And if you ever strike me, I shall hit back. If you ever use me in anger or out of a wish to punish, I shall leave you.
You really love me? she asked wistfully.The devil! he exclaimed, looking over his shoulder. Did I forget to say it? The thing I came to say?
When I was nineteen, she said, I was in love with being in love, I think. And I was given no chance to discover how deep - or not deep - that love would have gone.