I know lots and lots and lots of vegetarians who think it’s perfectly all right to kill animals for food to eat, but don’t do it because they think all the ways in which it’s done are wrong.
Is that growing old? Or is it something worse?
Be the instrument playing the sound of your life’s passing.
I ran rather than walked, anxious to lose my way. All I wanted was to be unsure.
We eat as sons and daughters, as families, as communities, as generations, as nations, and increasingly as a globe. We can’t stop our eating from radiating influence even if we want to.
August has passed, and yet summer continues by force to grow days. They sprout secretly between the chapters of the year, covertly included between its pages.
Murdering someone would surely prove that you are capable of killing, but it wouldn’t be the most reasonable way to understand why you shouldn’t do it.
Sometimes I can feel my bones straining.
Weeks passed like boats waiting to sail into the starless dawn, we were full of aimless endless darkness.
I went to the guest room and pretended to write. I hit the space bar again and again and again. My life story was spaces.
I’d lost count of the disappointments.
If I’d been someone else in a different world I’d’ve done something different, but I was myself and the world was the world, so I was silent.
I wondered, for the first time in my life, if life was worth all the work it took to live. What exactly made it worth it?
She wanted nothing more than someone to miss, to touch, with whom to speak like a child, with whom to be a child.
We looked at each other until it felt like everything would burst into flames.
It made me start to wonder if there were other people so lonely so close. I thought about “Eleanor Rigby.” It’s true, where do they all come from? And where do they all belong?
My insides don’t match up with my outsides. -Do anyone’s inside and outsides match up? -I don’t know. I’m only me. -Maybe that’s what a person’s personality is: the difference between the inside and the outside.
I have no need for the past, I thought, like a child. I did not consider that the past might have a need for me.
She avoids mirrors, and lifts a powerful telescope to find herself.
She was with me. She did all of those things and so many more, things I would never tell anyone, and she never even loved me. Now that’s love.