Elisabeth McLaughlin

“I fell back from him then, I lay next to him thinking, as I had had cause to think before, of how helpless desire is outside its little theater of heat, how ridiculous it becomes the moment it isn't welcomed, even if that welcome is contrived.”
― Garth Greenwell, What Belongs to You

“Whereas during those months of separation time had never gone quickly enough for their liking and they were wanting to speed its flight, now that they were in sight of the town they would have liked to slow it down and hold each moment in suspense, once the breaks went on and the train was entering the station. For the sensation, confused perhaps, but none the less poingant for that, of all those days and weeks and months of life lost to their love made them vaguely feel they were entitled to some compensation; this present hour of joy should run at half the speed of those long hours of waiting.”
― Albert Camus, The Plague

“There are more things to admire in men then to despise.”
― Albert Camus, The Plague

“[P]oetry makes nothing happen. That's the relief of it. And the reason why nothing can substitute for it.”
― Kay Ryan, Synthesizing Gravity: Selected Prose