Why do I write? It’s not that I want people to think I am smart, or even that I am a good writer. I write because I want to end my loneliness.
As Pollan explains, “Eating industrial meat takes an almost heroic act of not knowing, or, now, forgetting.
Verlegenheid is als je je afkeert van iets wat je wilt. Schaamte is als je je afkeert van iets wat je niet wilt.
In my dream, spring came after summer, came after fall, came after winter, came after spring.
At least etymologically speaking, when we talk about influenza we are talking about the influences that shape the world everywhere at once. Today’s bird flu or swine flu viruses or the 1918 Spanish flu virus are not the real influenza – not the underlying influence – but only its symptom.
Between 1950 and 1970, the number of American farms declined by half, the number of people employed in farming declined by half, and the size of the average farm doubled. During that time, the size of the average chicken has doubled.
Her grief is replaced with a useful sadness.
In Ukraine one cup of coffee is five dollars!
Every parent who loses a child finds a way to laugh again. The timbre begins to fade. The edge dulls. The hurt lessens. Every love is carved from loss.
He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all.
How could such a lonely person have been living so close to me my whole life? If I had known, I would have gone up to keep him company. Or I would have made some jewelry for him. Or told him hilarious jokes. Or given him a private tambourine concert.
In de stiltes tussen de ogenblikken sijpelden de jaren weg.
It was the part when you said that you do not know anybody, and how that encompasses even you.
What about guns with sensors in the handles that could detect if you were angry, and if you were, they wouldn’t fire, even if you were a police officer?
I asked her what “idealistic” meant. “It means you live by what you think is right.
Che rimpianto, pensare che serve una vita per imparare a vivere, Oskar.
Two friends are ordering lunch. One says, ‘I’m in the mood for a burger,’ and orders it. The other says, ‘I’m in the mood for a burger,’ but remembers that there are things more important to him than what he is in the mood for at any given moment, and orders something else. Who is the sentimentalist?
Gli abitanti del villaggio diventarono incarnazioni di quella leggenda che avevano ascoltato tante volte.
Punch with your mouth and talk with your feet.
Che cosa ama di questo grattacielo?” le ha chiesto Mr Black. Lei ha risposto: “Se sapessi rispondere non sarebbe vero amore, giusto?
Grandfather and I did not utter words pending the drive, which is not abnormal, because we have never uttered multitudinous words. I made efforts not to spleen him, but nonetheless did. For one example, I forgot to examine the map, and we missed our entrance to the superway. “Please do not punch me,” I said, “but I made a miniature error with the map.” Grandfather kicked the stop pedal, and my face gave a high-five to the front window.