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“Well, how we going to sleep with that going on?" his wife demanded, not unreasonably. "Are they making love, or are they sore at each other, or are they just suffering down there?"
("I Wouldn't Be In Your Shoes")”
―
("I Wouldn't Be In Your Shoes")”
―
“I don't know what the game was. I only know its name; they call it life.
I'm not sure how it should be played. No one ever told me. No one ever tells anybody. I only know we must have played it wrong. We broke some rule or other along the way, and never knew it at the time.
I don't know what the stakes are. I only know we've forfeited them, they're not for us.
We've lost. That's all I know. We've lost, we've lost.”
― I Married a Dead Man
I'm not sure how it should be played. No one ever told me. No one ever tells anybody. I only know we must have played it wrong. We broke some rule or other along the way, and never knew it at the time.
I don't know what the stakes are. I only know we've forfeited them, they're not for us.
We've lost. That's all I know. We've lost, we've lost.”
― I Married a Dead Man
“What makes you stop, when you have stopped, just where you have stopped? What is it, what? Is it something, or is it nothing? Why not a yard short, why not a yard more? Why just there, where you are, and nowhere else?
Some say: It’s just blind chance, and if you hadn’t stopped there, you would have stopped at the next place. Your story would have been different then. You weave your own story as you go along.
But others say: You could not have stopped any place else but this even if you wanted to. It was decreed, it was ordered, you were meant to stop at this spot, and no other. Your story is there waiting for you, it has been waiting for you there a hundred years, long before you were born, and you cannot change a comma of it. Everything you do, you have to do. You are the twig, and the water you float on swept you here. You are the leaf and the breeze you were borne on blew you here. This is your story, and you cannot escape it; you are only the player, not the stage manager. Or so some say.”
― I Married a Dead Man
Some say: It’s just blind chance, and if you hadn’t stopped there, you would have stopped at the next place. Your story would have been different then. You weave your own story as you go along.
But others say: You could not have stopped any place else but this even if you wanted to. It was decreed, it was ordered, you were meant to stop at this spot, and no other. Your story is there waiting for you, it has been waiting for you there a hundred years, long before you were born, and you cannot change a comma of it. Everything you do, you have to do. You are the twig, and the water you float on swept you here. You are the leaf and the breeze you were borne on blew you here. This is your story, and you cannot escape it; you are only the player, not the stage manager. Or so some say.”
― I Married a Dead Man
“A waltz for life,” she whispered raptly. “A waltz with wings. A waltz never ending. A waltz in the sunlight, a waltz in azure, in gold—and in spotless white.”
― Waltz into Darkness
― Waltz into Darkness
