“Zeer, zeer slim voorwaar, die aandacht voor de taal. Want niks zal hebben bestaan, niks zal zijn gebeurd, dat niet ooit kan worden naverteld.”
― Bloedboek
― Bloedboek
“And when you’re afraid of someone’s judgment, you can’t connect with them. You’re too preoccupied with the task of impressing them.”
― The Art of Asking; or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help
― The Art of Asking; or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help
“From what I've seen, it isn't so much the act of asking that paralyzes us--it's what lies beneath: the fear of being vulnerable, the fear of rejection, the fear of looking needy or weak. The fear of being seen as a burdensome member of the community instead of a productive one.
It points, fundamentally, to our separation from one another.”
― The Art of Asking; or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help
It points, fundamentally, to our separation from one another.”
― The Art of Asking; or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help
“If you mix the mashed potatoes and sauce, you can't separate them later. It's forever. The smoke comes out of Daddy's cigarette, but it never goes back in. We cannot go back. That's why it's hard to choose. You have to make the right choice. As long as you don't choose, everything remains possible.”
―
―
“The morning Julia found the phone, my parents were over for brunch. Everything was falling apart around Benjy, although I'll never know what he knew at the time, and neither will he. The adults were talking when he reentered the kitchen and said, "The sound of time. What happened to it?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You know," he said, waving his tiny hand about, "the sound of time."
It took time - about five frustrating minutes - to figure out what he was getting at. Our refigerator was being repaired, so the kitchen lacked its omnipresent, nearly imperceptible buzzing sound. He spent virtually all his home life within reach of that sound, and so had come to associate it with life happening.
I loved his misunderstanding, because it wasn't a misunderstanding.
My grandfather heard the cries of his dead brothers. That was the sound of his time.
My father heard attacks.
Julia heard the boys' voices.
I heard silences.
Sam heard betrayals and the sounds of Apple products turning on.
Max heard Argus's whining.
Benjy was the only one still young enough to hear home.”
― Here I Am
"What are you talking about?"
"You know," he said, waving his tiny hand about, "the sound of time."
It took time - about five frustrating minutes - to figure out what he was getting at. Our refigerator was being repaired, so the kitchen lacked its omnipresent, nearly imperceptible buzzing sound. He spent virtually all his home life within reach of that sound, and so had come to associate it with life happening.
I loved his misunderstanding, because it wasn't a misunderstanding.
My grandfather heard the cries of his dead brothers. That was the sound of his time.
My father heard attacks.
Julia heard the boys' voices.
I heard silences.
Sam heard betrayals and the sounds of Apple products turning on.
Max heard Argus's whining.
Benjy was the only one still young enough to hear home.”
― Here I Am
De Boekendoos
— 547 members
— last activity Jul 22, 2022 09:32AM
Voor alle mensen die in Nederland of België wonen of de taal spreken en hun lees-ervaringen willen delen met landgenoten in eigen taal.
Our Shared Shelf
— 223237 members
— last activity Dec 16, 2025 12:22AM
OUR SHARED SHELF IS CURRENTLY DORMANT AND NOT MANAGED BY EMMA AND HER TEAM. Dear Readers, As part of my work with UN Women, I have started reading ...more
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