And didn't it always go like that--body parts not lining up the way you wanted them to, all of it a little bit off, as if the world itself were an animated sequence of longing and envy and self-hatred and grandiosity and failure and success, a strange and endless cartoon loop that you couldn't stop watching, because, despite all you knew by now, it was still so interesting.
Meg WolitzerBut, she knew, you didn’t have to marry your soulmate, and you didn’t even have to marry an Interesting. You didn’t always need to be the dazzler, the firecracker, the one who cracked everyone up, or made everyone want to sleep with you, or be the one who wrote and starred in the play that got the standing ovation. You could cease to be obsessed with the idea of being interesting.
Meg WolitzerDennis was present, still present, and this, she thought as she stayed landed against him, was no small talent.
Meg WolitzerI always thought it was the saddest and most devastating ending. How you could have these enormous dreams that never get met. How without knowing it you could just make yourself smaller over time. I don't want that to happen to me.
Meg WolitzerFrom this day forward, because we are clearly the most interesting people who ever fucking lived," said Ethan, "because we are just so fucking compelling, our brains swollen with intellectual thoughts, let us be known as the Interestings. And let everyone who meets us fall down dead in our path from just how fucking interesting we are.
Meg WolitzerMots clés appelations
Crema Seamans," Ethan repeated thoughtfully. "It's like a soup made from ... various semens. A medley of semens. It's a flavour of Campbell's soup that got discontinued immediately."
"Stop it, Ethan, you're being totally graphic," said Cathy Kiplinger.
"Well, he is a graphic artist," said Goodman.
Mots clés graphic-artist
What if she'd turned down the lightly flung invitation and went about her life, thudding obliviously along like a drunk person, a blind person, a moron, someone who thinks that the small packet of happiness she carries is enough.
Meg WolitzerMots clés happiness
Well," said Ash, and she got out of her own bed and came to sit beside Jules. "I've always sort of felt that you prepare yourself over the course of your whole life for the big moments, you know? But when they happen, you sometimes feel totally unready for them, or even that they're not what you thought. And that's what makes them strange. The reality is really different from the fantasy.
Meg WolitzerMots clés reality
The way Susannah sings 'The Wind Will Carry Us' is so sad," he murmured.
"Yeah, it really is."
"It makes me think of the way people devote their lives to each other, and then one of them just leaves, or even dies."
"I hadn't thought of it that way," said Jules, who had never understood those lyrics, in particular how a single wind could carry two people apart. "I know this sounds picky, but wouldn't the wind carry them together?” she asked. “It's one breeze. It just blows one way, not two."
"Huh. Let me think about it." He thought briefly. "You're right. It doesn't make sense. But still, it's very melancholy.
Mots clés the-way-the-wind-blows
Bending Spring Ranch, Cole Valley, Colorado.”
“What kind of a ranch is it anyway?” Dennis had asked Jules originally when the property had been purchased. “Cattle? Dude? I wasn’t really sure.”
“No, it’s a tax ranch,” she’d said. “See, they raise little tax brackets there. It’s the only one of its kind in the world.
Mots clés tax-ranch
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