She wanted more, more slang, more figures of speech, the bee’s knees, the cats pajamas, horse of a different color, dog-tired, she wanted to talk like she was born here, like she never came from anywhere else
Everything that’s born has to die, which means our lives are like skyscrapers. The smoke rises at different speeds, but they’re all on fire, and we’re all trapped.
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 Quote - Sadness of not knowing enough words to [express what you mean].](https://minimalistquotes.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/05/sadness-of-not-knowing-enough-words-to-express-wha-683x1024.jpg)
