The Art of Racing in the Rain

by Garth Stein

memory is time folding back on itself. To remember is to disengage from the present.

They fell onto the bed and he mounted her and she said, “The field is fertile—beware!” And he said, “I embrace the fertility.” And he plowed the field until it grasped the sheets in its fists, arched its back, and cried out with joy.

that which we manifest is before us; we are the creators of our own destiny. Be it through intention or ignorance, our successes and our failures have been brought on by none other than ourselves.

I will often admire a beautiful sunrise, but I will never consider the sun a champion for having risen.

To live every day as if it had been stolen from death, that is how I would like to live.

I couldn’t be a human anymore and feel the pain that humans feel. I had to be an animal again. I devoured, I gorged, I gulped, I did all the things I shouldn’t have done. My trying to live to human standards had done nothing for Eve; I ate the squirrel for Eve.

People are always worried about what’s happening next. They often find it difficult to stand still, to occupy the now without worrying about the future. People are not generally satisfied with what they have; they are very concerned with what they are going to have.