I was stupid, the official descriptive phrase for happy.
Either you have the feeling or you don’t. Hawk Davies.
A library is like an island in the middle of a vast sea of ignorance, particularly if the library is very tall and the surrounding area has been flooded.
I’m telling you why we broke up, Ed. I’m writing this letter, the whole truth of why it happened. And the truth is that I goddamn loved you so much.
I started making plans, thinking we would get that far.
I’d ruin any day, all my days, for those long nights with you, and I did.
It was a secret time and place, you next to me, untraceable and out of this world.
How do you forget something? You just walk away from it, those who are still alive. There are so few clearings in our hearts and minds, so few places where something can’t grow on top of whatever happened to us before, and this is love too.
Friends can make you feel that the world is smaller and less sneaky than it really is.
Love can smack you like a seagull, and pour all over your feet like junk mail.
December 5 is what I saw as we walked together on October 5, let’s go, let’s go together toward something extraordinary and I started making plans, thinking we would get that far.
I saw myself, clearly, a scorned woman drunk and angry at a party. Hell hath no fury etc.
I’m a lunatic wandering around for scraps.
You have to love the whole person, if you are truly in love.
Every time you said it, you really said it. It wasn’t like a sequel where Hollywood just lines up the same actors and hopes it works again. It was like a remake with a new director and crew trying something else and starting from scratch.
She was all the world’s money, and I would spend it with her, my sharpest friend who changed the tide, my only comfort from the brutal gamble of the world and the wicked ways of men.
The flames rose bright on everyone’s screens, flickering lipstick red and traffic-cone orange and Lord knows what else, depending on how your television’s colour was.
She licked her lips and then wiped them on her hand, her dark lipstick staining her wrist like a suicide.
The bus driver gave me a why-the-hell-aren’t-you-at-school look and I gave him a shut-up-you’re-a-bus-driver-so-bus-drive look right back.