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Mariel
https://www.goodreads.com/vampiretouch
“We are not in love. Not the way I’ve been told
being in love feels like. But we have been sleeping
beside each other for so many nights and I
am the most beautiful doormat you have ever
walked over.”
―
being in love feels like. But we have been sleeping
beside each other for so many nights and I
am the most beautiful doormat you have ever
walked over.”
―
“Si os he referido estos detalles acerca del asteroide B 612 y si os he confiado su número es por las personas grandes. Las personas grandes aman las cifras. Cuando les habláis de un nuevo amigo, no os interrogan jamás sobre lo esencial. Jamás os dicen: '¿Cómo es el timbre de su voz? ¿Cuáles son los juegos que prefiere? ¿Colecciona mariposas?' En cambio, os preguntan: '¿Qué edad tiene? ¿Cuántos hermanos tiene? ¿Cuánto pesa? ¿Cuánto gana su padre?' Sólo entonces creen conocerle. Si decís a las personas grandes: 'He visto una hermosa casa de ladrillos rojos con geranios en las ventanas y palomas en el techo...', no acertarán a imaginarse la casa. Es necesario decirles: 'He visto una casa de cien mil fracos'. Entonces exclaman: '¡Qué hermosa es!'
Si les decís: 'La prueba de que el principito existió es que era encantador, que reía, y que quería un cordero. Querer un cordero es prueba de que se existe', se encogerán de hombros y os tratarán como se trata a un niño. Pero si les decís: 'El planeta de donde venía es el asteroide B 612', entonces quedarán convencidos y os dejarán tranquilo sin preguntaros más. Son así. Y no hay que reprocharles. Los niños deben ser muy indulgentes con las personas grandes.
Pero, claro está, nosotros que comprendemos la vida, nos burlamos de los números.”
― The Little Prince
Si les decís: 'La prueba de que el principito existió es que era encantador, que reía, y que quería un cordero. Querer un cordero es prueba de que se existe', se encogerán de hombros y os tratarán como se trata a un niño. Pero si les decís: 'El planeta de donde venía es el asteroide B 612', entonces quedarán convencidos y os dejarán tranquilo sin preguntaros más. Son así. Y no hay que reprocharles. Los niños deben ser muy indulgentes con las personas grandes.
Pero, claro está, nosotros que comprendemos la vida, nos burlamos de los números.”
― The Little Prince
“Sometimes he wakes so far from himself that he can’t even remember who he is. “Where am I?” he asks, desperate, and then, “Who am I? Who am I?”
And then he hears, so close to his ear that it is as if the voice is originating inside his own head, Willem’s whispered incantation. “You’re Jude St. Francis. You are my oldest, dearest friend. You’re the son of Harold Stein and Julia Altman. You’re the friend of Malcolm Irvine, of Jean-Baptiste Marion, of Richard Goldfarb, of Andy Contractor, of Lucien Voigt, of Citizen van Straaten, of Rhodes Arrowsmith, of Elijah Kozma, of Phaedra de los Santos, of the Henry Youngs.
“You’re a New Yorker. You live in SoHo. You volunteer for an arts organization; you volunteer for a food kitchen.
“You’re a swimmer. You’re a baker. You’re a cook. You’re a reader. You have a beautiful voice, though you never sing anymore. You’re an excellent pianist. You’re an art collector. You write me lovely messages when I’m away. You’re patient. You’re generous. You’re the best listener I know. You’re the smartest person I know, in every way. You’re the bravest person I know, in every way.
“You’re a lawyer. You’re the chair of the litigation department at Rosen Pritchard and Klein. You love your job; you work hard at it.
“You’re a mathematician. You’re a logician. You’ve tried to teach me, again and again.
“You were treated horribly. You came out on the other end. You were always you.”
― A Little Life
And then he hears, so close to his ear that it is as if the voice is originating inside his own head, Willem’s whispered incantation. “You’re Jude St. Francis. You are my oldest, dearest friend. You’re the son of Harold Stein and Julia Altman. You’re the friend of Malcolm Irvine, of Jean-Baptiste Marion, of Richard Goldfarb, of Andy Contractor, of Lucien Voigt, of Citizen van Straaten, of Rhodes Arrowsmith, of Elijah Kozma, of Phaedra de los Santos, of the Henry Youngs.
“You’re a New Yorker. You live in SoHo. You volunteer for an arts organization; you volunteer for a food kitchen.
“You’re a swimmer. You’re a baker. You’re a cook. You’re a reader. You have a beautiful voice, though you never sing anymore. You’re an excellent pianist. You’re an art collector. You write me lovely messages when I’m away. You’re patient. You’re generous. You’re the best listener I know. You’re the smartest person I know, in every way. You’re the bravest person I know, in every way.
“You’re a lawyer. You’re the chair of the litigation department at Rosen Pritchard and Klein. You love your job; you work hard at it.
“You’re a mathematician. You’re a logician. You’ve tried to teach me, again and again.
“You were treated horribly. You came out on the other end. You were always you.”
― A Little Life
“I. Those of us born by water are never afraid enough of drowning. Bruises used to trophy my knees from my death-defying tree climb jumps. Growing up, my backyard was a forest of blackberry bushes. I learned early nothing sweet will come to you unthorned.
II. At twelve your body becomes a currency. So Jenny and I sat down and cut up all our clothes into nothing. That year I failed math class but knew the exact number of calories in a carrot stick. I learned early being desired goes hand in hand with hunger.
III. The last time I tried to scream I felt my father climbing up through my throat and into my mouth.
IV. There is a certain kind of girl who reads Lolita at fourteen and finds religion. I painted my eyes black and sucked barroom cherries to red my tongue. There was a boy who promised Judas really did love Jesus. I learned early every kiss and betrayal are up for interpretation.
V. I think he must have conferenced with my nightmares on exactly how to hurt me.
VI. He never broke my heart. He only turned it into a compass that always points me back to him.”
―
II. At twelve your body becomes a currency. So Jenny and I sat down and cut up all our clothes into nothing. That year I failed math class but knew the exact number of calories in a carrot stick. I learned early being desired goes hand in hand with hunger.
III. The last time I tried to scream I felt my father climbing up through my throat and into my mouth.
IV. There is a certain kind of girl who reads Lolita at fourteen and finds religion. I painted my eyes black and sucked barroom cherries to red my tongue. There was a boy who promised Judas really did love Jesus. I learned early every kiss and betrayal are up for interpretation.
V. I think he must have conferenced with my nightmares on exactly how to hurt me.
VI. He never broke my heart. He only turned it into a compass that always points me back to him.”
―
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