Wednesday, December 5, 2012

The Long Goodbye: A Memoir

"I was a child of atheists, but I had an intuition of God. The days seemed created for our worship. There was grass and flowers and clouds. And then there were the words for these things: mare's tails and a mackerel sky, daylillies and lady's slippers and lilicas and hyacinth. There were words even for the weeds: goldenrod and ragweed and Queen Anne's lace. You could feed yourself on the grandeur of the sounds."

The Long Goodbye: A Memoir, p. 2
By Meghan O'Rourke 
Published 2012

Friday, November 30, 2012

The Abstinence Teacher

"I'm halfway through my life, and as far as I can tell, the real lesson of the past isn't that I made some mistakes, it's that I didn't make nearly enough of them." 

The Abstinence Teacher, p. 264
By Tom Perrotta
Published 2007

Saturday, July 14, 2012

How to Buy a Love of Reading

 "'He's self-invented. Thinks he's self-contained. Drinks to ignore his seepage. I feel truly sorry for him. He's very young to be so lonely.' 
'Lonely? You know nothing. He's—' 
'People who make fiction of themselves can't be otherwise.'" 

How to Buy a Love of Reading, p. 124 
By Tanya Egan Gibson
Published 2006

Sunday, April 1, 2012

The Fault in Our Stars

"I believe the universe wants to be noticed. I think the universe is improbably biased toward consciousness, that it rewards intelligence in part because the universe enjoys its elegance being observed."

The Fault in Our Stars
, p. 223
By John Green
Published 2012

Friday, February 24, 2012

Blue Nights

"Memories are by definition of times past, things gone. Memories are the Westlake uniforms in the closet, the faded and cracked photographs, the invitations to the weddings of the people who are no longer married, the mass cards from the funerals of the people whose faces you no longer remember. Memories are what you no longer want to remember."

Blue Nights, p. 66
By Joan Didion
Published 2011

i'm alive

My last post was practically three months ago. Three. That's pretty embarrassing. I'm going to try my best to dodge all glances and stares that indicate my abandonment. Thank you for lingering.