People do not change, they are merely revealed.
Anne EnrightThey are surprisingly tall--eight-year-olds. They are surprisingly like real people. Of course your own babies are always real to you, they are all there from the word go, but even strangers' children look like proper people by the aged of eight...
Anne EnrightAnd what amazes me as I hit the motorway is not the fact that everyone loses someone, but that everyone loves someone. It seems like such a massive waste of energy -- and we all do it, all the people beetling along between the white lines, merging, converging, overtaking. We each love someone, even though they will die. And we keep loving them, even when they are not there to love any more. And there is no logic or use to any of this, that I can see.
Anne EnrightBecause a mother's love is God's greatest joke. And besides - who is to say what is the first and what is the final cause?
-that I was living my life in inverted commas. I could pick up my keys and go 'home' where I could 'have sex' with my 'husband' just like lots of other people did. And I didn't seem to mind the inverted commas...
This is how we all survive. We default to the oldest scar.
So I left the house with a howl of regret for all I had been denied, though there was nothing there I actually wanted. I wanted out of there, that was all. I wanted a larger life.
My children are of a different breed. They seem to grow like plants, to be made of twig and blossom and not of meat.
There are long stretches of time when I don't know what I am doing, or what I have done - nothing mostly, but sometimes it would be nice to know what kind of nothing that was...I try not to drink before half past five, but I always do drink - from the top of the wine bottle to the last, little drop. It is the only way I know to make the day end.
There are so few people given us to love. I want to tell my daughters this, that each time you fall in love it is important, even at nineteen. Especially at nineteen. And if you can, at nineteen, count the people you love on one hand, you will not, at forty, have run out of fingers on the other. There are so few people given us to love and they all stick.
Anne EnrightTags: love
I see her on a Sunday after lunch, and we spend a pleasant afternoon, and when I leave I find she has run through me like water.
Anne EnrightI do not think we remember our family in any real sense. We live in them instead
Anne EnrightThere are long stretches of time when I don't know what I am doing,
or what I have done - nothing mostly, but sometimes
it would be nice to know what kind of nothing that was...
Nothing had happened yet in my life except the need to get out of it.
Anne EnrightBecause a mother's love is God's greatest joke.
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