I hope that one day you will have the experience of doing something you do not understand for someone you love.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOERIt has shown me that everything is illuminated in the light of the past. It is always along the side of us…on the inside, looking out.
More Jonathan Safran Foer Quotes
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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.
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What does it remember like?
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It’s the tragedy of loving, you can’t love anything more than something you miss.
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I got incredibly heavy boots about how relatively insignificant life is, and how, compared to the universe and compared to time, it didn’t even matter if I existed at all.
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We burned with love for ourselves, all of us, starters of the fire we suffered- our love was the affliction for which only our love was the cure.
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I imagine a line, a white line, painted on the sand and on the ocean, from me to you.
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One day you will do things for me that you hate. That is what it means to be family.
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It has shown me that everything is illuminated in the light of the past. It is always along the side of us…on the inside, looking out.
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There are only some many times you can utter “It does not hurt” before it begins to hurt even more than the hurt.
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The only thing more painful than being an active forgetter is to be an inert rememberer.
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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?
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It made me start to wonder if there were other people so lonely so close. I thought about “Eleanor Rigby.” It’s true, where do they all come from? And where do they all belong?
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I’m so afraid of losing something I love that I refuse to love anything.
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Every night before putting her to sleep, Yankel counts her ribs, as if one might have disappeared in the course of the day and become the seed and soil for some new companion to steal her away from him.
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My life story is the story of everyone I’ve ever met.
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Is that growing old? Or is it something worse?
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I was of the opinion that the past is past, and like all that is not now it should remain buried along the side of our memories.
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We live in a world made up more of story than stuff. We are creatures of memory more than reminders, of love more than likes.
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I took the world into me, rearranged it, and sent it back out as a question: “Do you like me?
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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?
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Worthy would-be worlds of words, whorls of working wonder.
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But come. No explaining or mending. Be beside me somewhere.
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I want an infinitely blank book and the rest of time.
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It is not a thing that you can imagine. It only is. After that, there can be no imagining.
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I missed you even when I was with you. That’s been my problem. I miss what I already have, and I surround myself with things that are missing.
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Silently the animal catches our glance. The animal looks at us, and whether we look away or not, we are exposed. Whether we change our lives or do nothing, we have responded. To do nothing is to do something.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER