Oct. 11th, 2011


The end was messy, as expected. But at least we are done, and I won't feel obligated to read any of Papa's work for a long time!
  • She fit so well inside his ear. She told him what he most wanted to hear, and it was obviously a powerful tonic for both of them, to be united in their thinking.
  • “I’m always on your side,” I said, and wondered if I was the only one who felt the complicated truth of that hovering over us in the dark room.
  • the feeling that the best part of you was being shaved away, inch by inch
  • That’s when it struck me that Pauline was being very brave about me, about inviting me to be near her for days on end when she was very much in love with my husband.
  • Somehow he’d turned it all back on me so that the affair wasn’t the worst thing, but that I’d had the very bad taste to mention it.
  • Ours was barely a mouthful of gossip
  • where the sea stood bright blue and uncompromised by anything
  • If you looked at the bicycles one way, they looked very solid, like sculpture, with afternoon light glinting cleanly off the chrome handlebars—one, two, three, all in a row. If you looked at them another way, you could see just how thin each kickstand was under the weight of the heavy frame, and how they were poised to fall like dominoes or the skeletons of elephants or like love itself.
  • We none of us were living by our own standards.
  • We said nothing new to one another, but the old material still worked if we were loud and ugly enough with it.
  • He understood how necessary the promises we made to each other were to our happiness. You couldn’t have real freedom unless you knew where the walls were and tended them. We could lean on the walls because they existed; they existed because we leaned on them.
  • Back at my first fish, knowing there wouldn’t be any fish without this one, and no love without this first one either.
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