All I saw was one black cat, an insultingly paranoid type who shrank off as I drew near.
Anne TylerHe wanted to say, Muriel, forgive me, but since my son died, sex has... turned. (As milk turns; that was how he thought of it. As milk will alter its basic nature and turn sour.) I really don't think of it anymore. I honestly don't. I can't imagine anymore what all that fuss was about. Now it seems pathetic.
Anne TylerShe opened her eyes and studied him a moment. Then she slipped her hand in her pocket, come up with something and held it toward him - palming it, like a secret. "For you," she said.
"For me?"
"I'd like you to have it."
It was a snapshot stolen from her family album: Muriel as a toddler, clambering out of a wading pool.
She meant, he supposed, to give him the best of her. And so she had. But the best of her was not that cild's Shirley Temple hairdo. It was her fierceness as she fought her way toward the camera with her chin set awry and her eyes bright slits of determination. He yhanked her. He said he would keep it forever.
During all the months when she had been absent, there were so many things I have saved up to tell her, so many bits of news about the house and the neighborhood and friends and work and family, but now they seemed inconsequential. Puny. Move far enough away from an event ans it sort of levels out, so to speak - settles into the general landscape.
Anne TylerI was born with the impression that what happened in books was much for reasonable, and interesting, and real, in some ways, than what happened in life.
Anne TylerStichwörter: reading
What did Ethan care? _He_ had no trouble navigating. This was because he’d lived all his life in one house, was Macon’s theory; while a person who’d been moved around a great deal never acquired a fixed point of reference but wandered forever in a fog — adrift upon the planet, helpless, praying that just by luck he might stumble across his destination.
Anne TylerStichwörter: directions geographic-dyslexia
Skinny as a fence post.
Anne TylerShe remembered the feel of wind on summer nights - how it billows through the house and wafts the curtains and smells of tar and roses
Anne TylerHe honestly believed, for an instant, that what he'd heard was music-a tune piped, a burble of notes, a little scrap of melody floating by on wind and breaking his heart.
Anne TylerStichwörter: love hurt feelings feeling-of-weakness
It's true that writing is a solitary occupation, but you would be surprised at how much companionship a group of imaginary characters can offer once you get to know them.
Anne TylerDas Zitat auf Deutsch anzeigen
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