Mary

“If I had a camera," I said, "I'd take a picture of you every day. That way I'd remember how you looked every single day of your life."

"I look exactly the same."

"No, you don't. You're changing all the time. Every day a tiny bit. If I could, I'd keep a record of it all."

"If you're so smart, how did I change today?"

"You got a fraction of a millimeter taller, for one thing. Your hair grew a fraction of a millimeter longer. And your breasts grew a fraction of a—"

"They did not!"

"Yes, they did."

"Did NOT."

"Did too."

"What else, you big pig?"

"You got a little happier and also a little sadder."

"Meaning they cancel out each other, leaving me exactly the same."

"Not at all. The fact that you got a little happier today doesn't change the fact that you also become a little sadder. Every day you become a little more of both, which means that right now, at this exact moment, you're the happiest and the saddest you've ever been in your whole life."

"How do you know?"

"Think about it. Have you ever been happier or sadder than right now, lying here in this grass?"

"I guess not. No."

"And have you ever been sadder?"

"No."

"It isn't like that for everyone, you know. Some people[...]"

"What about you? Are you the happiest and saddest right now that you've ever
been?"

"Of course I am."

"Why?"

"Because nothing makes me happier and nothing makes me sadder than you.”
― Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

“LITTLE DOGS RHAPSODY IN THE NIGHT
(PERCY THREE)

He puts his cheek against mine
and makes small, expressive sounds.
And when I'm awake, or awake enough

he turns upside down, his four paws
in the air
and his eyes dark and fervent.

Tell me you love me, he says.

Tell me again.

Could there be a sweeter arrangement?
Over and over
he gets to ask it.
I get to tell.”
― Mary Oliver

“Once upon a time, there was a boy. He lived in a village that no longer exists, in a house that no longer exists, on the edge of a field that no longer exists, where everything was discovered, and everything was possible. A stick could be a sword, a pebble could be a diamond, a tree, a castle. Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived in a house across the field, from a girl who no longer exists. They made up a thousand games. She was queen and he was king. In the autumn light her hair shone like a crown. They collected the world in small handfuls, and when the sky grew dark, they parted with leaves in their hair.

Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.”
― Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

“If you're afraid of butter, use cream.”
― Julia Child