black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, appreciating its subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum.

Jonathan Safran Foer

Sometimes you have to put your fears in order.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Fear Order Time Yourself
You are the only one who has understood even a whisper of me, and I will tell you that I am the only person who has understood even a whisper of you.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Person Understand Whisper Yourself
But I believe that things are extremely complicated, and her looking over me was as complicated as anything could ever be. But it was also incredibly simple.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Believe Complication Myself Simplicity
I dreamt four nights ago of clock hands descending from the universe like rain, of the moon as a green eye, of mirrors and insects, of a love that never withdrew. It was not the feeling of completeness that I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Complete Dreams Fantasy Feeling Myself Universe
Just to be a functioning adult in the world, we develop all of these layers of protection. When we see homeless people, we don’t cry, even though homeless people probably deserve our tears – you know, it’s a horrible thing.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Adult Cry Deserve Development Function Home Ourselves People World
Writers now are putting total faith in designers at Apple and Amazon. It’s almost like a race-car driver having no input into how cars are designed.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Car Design Faith Writing
I was more alone than if I had been alone.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Alone Myself
I try not to remember the life that I didn’t want to lose but lost and have to remember,
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Life Lose Myself Remember Try
This is my heart. You are touching it with your left hand. You are touching it with your left hand, not because you are left-handed, although you might be, but because I am holding it against my heart. What you are feeling is the beating of my heart. It is what keeps me alive.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Alive Feeling Hands Heart Touch Yourself
Food for her is not food, it is terror, dignity, gratitude, vengeance, joyfulness, humiliation, religion, history, and, of course, love. As if the fruit she always offered us were picked from the destroyed brances of out family tree.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Family Food Herself Offering Terror Tree
She let out a laugh, and then she put her hand over her mouth, like she was angry at herself for forgetting her sadness.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Angry Forget Hands Herself Laughter Sadness
Everything I did, I did because I thought it was the correct thing to do, I am not a hero, it is true, But I am not a bad person, either.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Bad Character Goodness Myself Person Unknown
Sometimes I imagined stitching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love? Why does anyone ever make love?
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Imagination Love Time Togetherness Touch
The mistakes I’ve made are dead to me. But I can’t take back the things I never did.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Death Mistake Myself
It’s so beautiful at this hour. The sun is low, the shadows are long, the air is cold and clean. You won’t be awake for another five hours, but I can’t help feeling that we’re sharing this clear and beautiful morning.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Beautiful Cleaning Feeling Help Low Morning Myself Shadow Sun
We spent our lives making livings.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Creation Live One Liner
She was with me. She did all of those things and so many more, things I would never tell anyone, and she never even loved me. Now that’s love.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Herself Love Myself Togetherness
Fiction works when it makes a reader feel something strongly.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Feeling Fiction Reading Strong Work
So many people enter and leave your life! Hundreds of thousands of people! You have to keep the door open so they can come in! But it also means you have to let them go!
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Leaving Let Go Life People Yourself
My life story is the story of everyone I’ve ever met.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Life Myself Story
Memory was supposed to fill the time, but it made time a hole to be filled. Each second was two hundred yards, to be walked, crawled. You couldn’t see the next hour, it was so far in the distance. Tomorrow was over the horizon, and would take an entire day to reach.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Day Distance Fill Memories Reach Time Walk Yourself
Do you eat chicken because you are familiar with the scientific literature on them and have decided that their suffering doesn’t matter, or do you do it because it tastes good?
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Decision Eat Goodness Literature Suffering Taste Yourself
A few weeks after the worst day, I started writing lots of letters. I don’t know why, but it was one of the only things that made my boots lighter.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Day Oneself Start Worst
Why does watching a dog be a dog fill one with happiness?
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Animal Dog Happiness Oneself
When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me. A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Feeling Life Loud Music Myself Stranger
If the thrill of hunting were in the hunt, or even in the marksmanship, a camera would do just as well.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Camera Hunting Thrill
No matter how much I feel, I’m not going to let it out. If I have to cry, I’m gonna cry on the inside. If I have to bleed, I’ll bruise. If my heart starts going crazy, I’m not gonna tell everyone in the world about it. It doesn’t help anything. It just makes everyone’s life worse.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Blood Bruise Cry Feeling Life Myself Worst

She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, appreciating its subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, appreciating its subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More Jonathan Safran Foer Quotes