You know, one of the tragedies of real life is that there is no background music.
Annie Proulx... there are four women in every man’s heart. The Maid in the Meadow, the Demon Lover, the Stouthearted Woman, the Tall and Quiet Woman.
Annie ProulxOrdinary parties, he thought, were subtle games of sexual and social badminton...
Annie ProulxHe had wanted to be a sophomore.
Annie ProulxLa marée baissait encore dans l'étrange mouvement du flux et reflux de l'eau, comme si un coeur immense au centre de la terre ne battait que deux fois par jour.
Annie ProulxMots clés noeuds-et-dénouement
A spinning coin, still balanced on its rim, may fall in either direction.
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I didn't have a chance to buy you anything," she said, then held both closed hands toward him. Uncurled her fingers. In each cupped palm a brown egg. He took them. They were cold. He thought it a tender, wonderful thing to do. She had given him something, the eggs, after all, only a symbol, but they had come from her hands as a gift. To him. It didn't matter that he'd bought them himself at the supermarket the day before. He imagined she understood him, that she had to love him to know that it was the outstreched hands, the giving, that mattered.
Annie Proulxsecretly he was pleased to own a horse with the sand to eat a raw cowboy.
Annie ProulxEverybody that went away suffered a broken heart. "I'm coming back some day," they all wrote. But never did. The old life was too small to fit anymore.
Annie ProulxMots clés home-town homesick old-life
If life was an arc of light that began in darkness, ended in darkness, the first part of his life had happened in ordinary glare. Here it was as though he
had found a polarized lens that deepened and intensified all seen through it.
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