Perhaps its not the world that is soundless but we who are deaf.
Margaret Atwood, The Tent.
“A home filled with nothing but yourself. It's heavy, that lightness. It's crushing, that emptiness.”
“Time folds you in its arms and gives you one last kiss, and then it flattens you out and folds you up and tucks you away until it's time for you to become someone else's past time, and then time fo...”
“Our heaven is their hell, said God. I like a balanced universe.”
“We want to get there faster. Get where? Wherever we are not. But a human soul can only go as fast as a man can walk, they used to say. In that case, where are all the souls? Left behind. They wande...”
“I'm working on my own life story. I don't mean I'm putting it together; no, I'm taking it apart. If you'd wanted the narrative line you should have asked earlier, when I still knew everything and w...”
“I won't fatten them in cages, though. I won't ply them with poisoned fruit items. I won't change them into clockwork images or talking shadows. I won't drain out their life's blood. They can do all...”
“I shiver, thinking how easy it is to be totally wrong about people-to see one tiny part of them and confuse it for the whole, to see the cause and think it's the effect or vice versa”
“At sunrise everything is luminous but not clear.”
“I think it's impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves.”
“They had killed themselves over our dying forests, over manatees maimed by propellers as they surfaced to drink from garden hoses; they had killed themselves at the sight of used tires stacked high...”
“The world seemed to shimmer a little at the edges.”
“If we cannot accept the importance of the world, which considers itself important, if in the midst of that world our laughter finds no echo, we have but one choice: to take the world as a whole and...”