We only have babies when we’re young enough not to know how grim life turns out.
Gregory MaguireStichwörter: reality child mother birth
Staring at a world too horrible to comprehend, believing -- by dint of ignorance and innocence -- that beneath this unbearable contract of guilt and blame there is always an older contract that may bind and release in a more salutary way.
Gregory MaguireStichwörter: innocence philosophy children hope ignorance wicked witch dorothy
One never knows how the witch became wicked, or whether that was the right choice for her — is it ever the right choice? Does the devil ever struggle to be good again, or if so is he not a devil? It is the very least question of definitions.
Gregory MaguireStichwörter: philosophy evil wicked witch
It isn't hard to find evil in this world. Evil is always more easily imagined than good, somehow.
Gregory MaguireStichwörter: evil good elphaba
Tell me to mind my own business, tell me to go fuck myself, to piss, off, go on, say it, but don’t tell me nothing’s wrong.
Gregory MaguireBut his face had that hollow look, as if there was something gone... you know that look. The inward focus. Distantly attentive to the home you're missing, or the someone you're missing. That look that a bird has when it turns it dry reptilian eye on you. That look that doesn't see you because the mind is filled up with someone it would rather see.
Gregory MaguireStichwörter: unrequited-love
There was something about words and music together that allowed people to get nearest to honest truth about what was most difficult to say. Paradoxically, only through the essential instantaneity of music could you approach its eternal pertinence.
Gregory MaguireStichwörter: music
He had thought love as a policy made a lot of sense for those who could manage it, and anyone who could manage it belonged in religious life. The rest of us have to struggle with more ordinary love, the common or garden variety: love as a crippling condition. Love as a syndrome.
Gregory MaguireStichwörter: religion lovesickness
I hate New Year's Eve. One more chance to remember that you haven't yet done what you wanted. And to pretend it doesn't matter.
Gregory MaguireStichwörter: regret
How could anyone live without flying?
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