lari’s Reviews > A Little Life > Status Update

These galleries are hung, mostly, with images from “Frog and Toad,” and he moves from each to each, not really seeing them but rather remembering the experience of viewing them for the first time, in JB’s studio, when he and Willem were new to each other, when he felt as if he was growing new body parts — a second heart, a second brain — to accommodate this excess of feeling, the wonder of his life.

Now he kisses her on her forehead, sits up. “I have to go,” he says.
“No,” she says. “Stay. Just a little longer.”
“I can’t,” he says.
“Five minutes,” she says.
“Five,” he agrees, and lies back down.

VENIA LLORANDO CONSTANTE PERO POCO Y CON ESTO ME RINDO ME DUELE EL PECHO

And so, as the years went by, he broke his promises to himself again and again. He did end up following people who were kind to him. He did trust people again. He did have sex again. He did hope to be saved. And he was right to do so: not every time, of course, but most of the time.

And so, as the years went by, he broke his promises to himself again and again. He did end up following people who were kind to him. He did trust people again. He did have sex again. He did hope to be saved. And he was right to do so: not every time, of course, but most of the time.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he would be safe; he would keep them both safe.“And tell me this: I must be absolutely sure. This place I’ve reached, is it truly Ithaca?”—as all around him, the apartment filled with light.

ME MATO

“Listen to me, Jude,” says Harold slowly, and reaches for him, but he pulls himself back against the window, away from Harold’s hands. “You are the most beautiful person I have ever met — ever.”

Me quiero morir

“The patron saint of lost causes,” adds Julia, taking the statue from Harold, and the words come to him at once: Pray for us, Saint Jude, helper and keeper of the hopeless, pray for us—“

Ayuda

“But really, he would know: it was when he walked into the greenhouse that afternoon. It was when he allowed himself to be escorted in, when he gave up everything to follow Brother Luke. That had been the moment. And after that, it had never been right again.”

La puta madre que lo remil pario

In those minutes, he pretended that they were his parents, and he was home for the weekend from law school to visit them, and this was his room, and the next day he would get up and do whatever it was that grown children did with their parents.

Primera lagrima derramada

“His days now were hours: hours without pain and hours with it, and the unpredictability of this schedule — and his body, although it was his in name only, for he could control nothing of it — exhausted him, and he slept and slept, the days slipping away from him uninhabited.”

Triste