Robert Frost at Eighty I think there are poems greater and stranger than any I have known. I would like to find them. They are not on the greying paper of old books or chanted on obscure lips. They are not in the language of mermaids or the sharp-tongued adjectives of vanishing. They run like… Continue reading Peter Boyle
heart breaking apart, an instrumental eye and instrumental mind rejoicing, a last cacophony of birds. — Brook Emery, from “Very Like a Whale” Uncommon Light (River Road Press, 2007)
To know you will be lonely is not the same as being lonely. — Peter Carey, Oscar and Lucinda. (Faber and Faber; 1St Edition edition 1988)
Maybe one morning I’ll wake up and step outside of myself to look back at the old me lying dead among the sheets. — Markus Zusak, I Am the Messenger. (Knopf Books for Young Readers; Reprint edition May 9, 2006) Originally published 2002.
It’s a terrible thing, isn’t it, the way we throw people away? — Kate Morton, The Secret Keeper. (Atria Books; First Edition edition October 16, 2012)
Some loves are like that. Your heart starts to feel like an overcrowded lifeboat. You throw your pride out to keep it afloat, and your self-respect and independence. After a while you start throwing people out — friends, everyone you know. And it’s still not enough. The lifeboat is still sinking, and you know it’s… Continue reading David Gregory Roberts
Hell is the special pain that dwells in that loss which you yourself have caused. — Elliot Perlman, Seven Types of Ambiguity. (Riverhead Books December 6, 2005)