She was gone, and all that was left was the space where you'd grown around her, like a tree that grows around a fence.
Nicole KraussHaving begun to feel, people’s desire to feel grew. They wanted to feel more, feel deeper, despite how it sometimes hurt. People became addicted to feeling. They struggled to uncover new emotions.
Nicole KraussMots clés life feelings desire
Sometimes I forget that the world is not on the same schedule as I. That everything is not dying, or that if it is dying it will return to life, what with a little sun and the usual encouragement. Sometimes I think: I am older than this tree, older than this bench, older than the rain. And yet. I'm not older than the rain. It's been falling for years and after I go it will keep on falling.
Nicole KraussI like to think the world wasn't ready for me, but maybe the truth is that I wasn't ready for the world. I've always arrived too late for my life.
Nicole KraussI spent the morning reading Ovid. I read differently now, more painstakingly, knowing I am probably revisiting the books I love for the last time.
Nicole KraussSooner or later she'll figure out the truth: you're a shell of a man, all she has to do is knock against you to find out you're empty.
Nicole KraussMots clés empty
I want to say somewhere: I've tried to be forgiving. And yet. There were times in my life, whole years, when anger got the better of me. Ugliness turned me inside out. There was a certain satisfaction in bitterness. I courted it. It was standing outside, and I invited it in. I scowled at the world. And the world scowled back...And to be honest: I wasn't really angry. Not anymore. I had left my anger somewhere long ago. Put it down on a park bench and walked away. And yet. It had been so long. I didn't know any other way of being.
Nicole KraussPerhaps that is what it means to be a father-to teach your child to live without you.
Nicole KraussMots clés fathers
19. THE WALL OF DICTIONARIES BETWEEN MY MOTHER AND THE WORLD GETS TALLER EVERY YEAR
Sometimes pages of the dictionaries come loose and gather at her feet, shallon, shalop, shallot, shallow, shalom, sham, shaman, shamble, like the petals of an immense flower. When I was little, I thought that the pages on the floor were words she would never be able to use again, and I tried to tape them back in where they belonged, out of fear that one day she would be left silent.
Atunci am văzut-o. E ciudat ce poate urzi mintea când inima o îmboldește. Arăta altfel decât mi-o aminteam eu. Și totuși. Era aceeași. Ochii: așa am recunoscut-o. Mi-am spus: ”Vasăzică așa ți se arată îngerul. Oprit la vârsta la carea te-a iubit cel mai mult.
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