We could imagine all sorts of universes unlike this one, but this is the one that happened.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOERIf I’d been someone else in a different world I’d’ve done something different, but I was myself and the world was the world, so I was silent.
More Jonathan Safran Foer Quotes
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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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We aren’t exactly emptying the oceans; it’s more like clear-cutting a forest with thousands of species to create massive fields with one type of soybean.
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Memory was supposed to fill the time, but it made time a hole to be filled.
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I hope that one day you will have the experience of doing something you do not understand for someone you love.
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The world is a big place,” he said, “but so is the inside of an apartment!
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I looked at everyone and wondered where they came from, and who they missed, and what they were sorry for.
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The meaning of my thoughts started to float away from me, like leaves that fall from a tree into a river, I was the tree, the world was the river.
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It is not a thing that you can imagine. It only is. After that, there can be no imagining.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER -
It’s hard to say goodbye to the place you’ve lived. It can be as hard as saying goodbye to a person.
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Words never mean what we want them to mean.
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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.
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Why are you leaving me? He wrote, I do not know how to live. I do not know either but I am trying. I do not know how to try. There were some things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him. So i buried them and let them hurt me
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I have no need for the past, I thought, like a child. I did not consider that the past might have a need for me.
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I have so much to say to you. I want to begin at the beginning, because that is what you deserve. I want to tell you everything, without leaving out a single detail. But where is the beginning? And what is everything?
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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






