Everyone performs bad actions. I do. Father does. Even you do. A bad person is someone who does not lament his bad actions.
Jonathan Safran FoerI said I kicked a French chicken in the stomach once." "Huh?" "It said, 'Oeuf.'" "What is that?" "It's a joke. Do you want to hear another, or have you already had un oeuf?
Jonathan Safran FoerUsamos una serie de teatrales señas
con las manos para comunicar lo que un
simple susurro habría hecho con la
misma eficacia. Pero hemos hecho voto
de silencio: ni una palabra hasta que estemos a salvo, de camino a casa.
An ocean could not explain the distance we have traveled.
Jonathan Safran FoerStichwörter: philosophical-reflection immigrant-experience
I looked at everyone and wondered where they came from, and who they missed, and what they were sorry for.
Jonathan Safran FoerI ripped the pages out of the book.
I reversed the order, so the last one was first, and the first was last.
When I flipped through them, it looked like the man was floating up through the sky.
And if I'd had more pictures, he would've flown through a window, back into the building, and the smoke would've poured into the hole that the plane was about to come out of.
Dad would've left his messages backward, until the machine was empty, and the plane would've flown backward away from him, all the way to Boston.
He would've taken the elevator to the street and pressed the button for the top floor.
He would've walked backward to the subway, and the subway would've gone backward through the tunnel, back to our stop.
Dad would've gone backward through the turnstile, then swiped his Metrocard backward, then walked home backward as he read the New York Times from right to left.
He would've spit coffee into his mug, unbrushed his teeth, and put hair on his face with a razor.
He would've gotten back into bed, the alarm would've rung backward, he would've dreamt backward.
Then he would've gotten up again at the end of the night before the worst day.
He would've walked backward to my room, whistling 'I Am the Walrus' backward.
He would've gotten into bed with me.
We would've looked at the stars on my ceiling, which would've pulled back their light from our eyes.
I'd have said 'Nothing' backward.
He'd have said 'Yeah, buddy?' backward.
I'd have said 'Dad?' backward, which would have sounded the same as 'Dad' forward.
He would have told me the story of the Sixth Borough, from the voice in the can at the end
to the beginning, from 'I love you' to 'Once upon a time.'
We would have been safe.
When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me. A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calender that showed the wrong month. I could have cried over it. I did. Where the smoke from the chimney ended. How an overturned bottle rested at the edge of a table. I spent my life learning to feel less. Every day I felt less. Is that growing old? Or is it something worse? You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.
Jonathan Safran FoerStichwörter: life happiness sadness old feelings details
[...]It is as if after surviving so much, there was no longer reason to survive.
Jonathan Safran FoerStichwörter: life dead survival survivor
So in a way, the more you kiss with lips, the more human you are.
Jonathan Safran FoerThere is something about eating animals that tends to polarize: never eat them or never sincerely question eating them; become an activist or disdain activists.
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