But I care about the reader, and I’m trying to keep the reader’s attention for as long as I can.
I had a briefcase at one point, but it was a kind of 1980s New Wave briefcase. It was made of some kind of cardboard and it had metal hinges. It was kind of faux industrial looking, and I used to carry my books in it rather than a backpack. I didn’t want to have normal student accoutrements.
I have a lot of novels that I haven’t finished. I usually get 150 pages in and I realize it’s not going anywhere. I don’t publish everything I write. I must have six unfinished novels at least.
There is a small window of opportunity for freckled girls to tan.
You begin always knowing nothing. You remain forever an amateur, a first timer.
I studied English literature in the honors program, which means that you had to take courses in various centuries. You had to start with Old English, Middle English, and work your way toward the modern. I figured if I did that it would force me to read some of the things I might not read on my own.
The perishable nature of love is what gives love its profound importance in our lives. If it were endless, if it were on tap, love wouldn’t hit us the way it does.
I know that attaching memories to books may be going out of the world, but while it lasts, it’s a strong record of your life.
I always work in a room where there’s no Internet to keep from being distracted so easily.
I spend most of every day writing. I like to write every day if I can. I don’t start extremely early.
I was aware that you weren’t supposed to write about suburbia, that it was undignified in some way, the subject matter not momentous enough. And so, for a long time, that kept me from writing about it. But once I began, I realized it was just as interesting as anywhere else.
He had the feeling that there was something physically behind his eyes, blocking the light.
You don’t understand me. I’m a teenager. I’ve got problems!
Dieting fooled you into thinking you could control your life.
But, like anyone in love, Madeleine believed that her own relationship was different from every other relationship, immune from typical problems.
When you stood between somebody you loved and death, it was hard to be awake and it was hard to sleep.
Mitchell had answered that, as far as he understood them, mystical experiences were significant only to the extent that they changed a person’s conception of reality, and if that changed conception led to a change in behavior and action, a loss of ego.
That was the deal basically: catatonia without; frenzy within.
The more she thought about it, the more Madeleine understood that extreme solitude didn’t just describe the way she was feeling about Leonard. It explained how she’d always felt when she was in love. It explained what love was like and, just maybe, what was wrong with it.
The trees like lungs filling with air My sister, the mean one, pulling my hair.