amy
https://www.goodreads.com/artemis7285-
“Before she lost words—when she was still able to use them to write—she sometimes wished that her own expressions would more closely resemble inarticulacy: a moan or low cry. The sound of suffering through bated breath. Snarling. Humming in one's half-sleep to pacify a child. Stifled laughter. The sound of two people's lips pressing together, pulling apart.”
― Greek Lessons
― Greek Lessons
“and I thought, this is what it was to be blessed---
to know a love that was beyond an owning, beyond
the body and its needs, but went straight from wild
thing to wild thing, approving of its wildness."
(The Wild Divine)”
― Bright Dead Things
to know a love that was beyond an owning, beyond
the body and its needs, but went straight from wild
thing to wild thing, approving of its wildness."
(The Wild Divine)”
― Bright Dead Things
“All the animals - human, bird, and pig - had felt something larger than themselves that they were a part of, families, flocks, or something bigger and less definable. Now, I feel only the absence of something like love, of something like faith, of purpose, meaning, of appreciation for anything. But, I don't want to have to eat to get these things back. Or else, I want to eat but the thing I want to consume is the food humans lovingly make for themselves and for each other: home-cooked meals, and tea, and hot milk, and things like that.”
― Woman, Eating
― Woman, Eating
“Happiness could be felt as a pressure, too, Louis realized, more hard-edged and solid than longing, even. In Clarinda he had yearned for better in a formless way, desire like a gray milk churn; in fact he'd been so poor in Iowa that he couldn't settle on one concrete noun to wish for -- a real father? A girl in town? A thousand acres? A single friend? In contrast, this new happiness had angles. Happiness like his was real; it had a jewel-cut shadow, and he could lose it.”
― Vampires in the Lemon Grove: Stories
― Vampires in the Lemon Grove: Stories
“The second world — the world of literature —offered me, besides the pleasures of form, the sustentation of empathy (the first step of what Keats called negative capability) and I ran for it. I relaxed in it. I stood willingly and gladly in the characters of everything — other people, trees, clouds. And this is what I learned: that the world's otherness is antidote to confusion, that standing within this otherness — the beauty and the mystery of the world, out in the fields or deep inside books — can re-dignify the worst-stung heart.”
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