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but this is Broadway, and if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.
“You’re like the prince who wakes Sleeping Beauty,” I said. “I’ve been asleep for a long, long time.”
“I am not sleeping with a man who speaks sheep talk,” I whispered to her. “Are you nuts?”
You no longer have a type, Heather. You have an ice cream flavor that you like to eat late at night by yourself, but no boy type
Ever notice how women who see almost everything can ignore the biggest clues imaginable? It’s always baffled me.”
“People say you get over it, but you don’t. Not those kinds of men. They leave scars.
It’s more painful than any metaphor could be. Great love inevitably carries with it great loss.
“Remind me in the years to come how happy I was in this moment,” she said to us. “Remember it for me in case I ever forget. Never let me color it with any other emotion.
Love finds us, passes through us, continues.
Yes, they danced to send winter back into the mountains, but they also danced because winter always ends, wars end, and life is victorious each and every time.
I learned that love is not static; love does not divide. What love we find in this world is coming toward us and traveling away from us simultaneously. To say we find love is a misuse of the word find. Love finds us, passes through us, continues. We cannot find it any more than we can find air or water; we cannot live without either thing any more than we can live without love. Love is essential and as common as bread. If you look for it, you will see it everywhere, and you will never be without it.
They danced in the face of death. That’s why he’ll be there. He wouldn’t miss it. He wants to dance in the face of death. That’s Jack.”
“You go and find him, and you don’t stop until you have what you need.
That’s not such a bad thing to be, is it? To be a fool for love?”
He had given me hope and taught me to trust that life held surprises if you allowed it to reveal itself. You did not clutter it with camera shots and Facebook postings. You gave yourself to the situation.
Hemingway celebrated death in life; the Surva Festival asked for life in death.
When you travel, your soul … how is it? It is up in the air.”
“When you are in your own country, your feet can find the soul beneath, and it is whole. But when you travel, you are a half soul.
Thinking of soup satisfied me for a time.
you can never know what you will find. Or what will find you. But sometimes the gods remember us. Go out and look. What do you have to lose?”
If you have to tell someone you’re not crackers, you probably are.
In the muted light of the fountain, I saw them spin and revolve together, a wolves’ dance on a cold spring night.
Sometimes growing up seems like a simple process of casting things off.
Go to Japan and get a new haircut or something. Buy a samurai sword. Shake it up.
He told me that the people in Batak believed the souls of the dead could live in trees, and if that were true, he promised to live in the Esche, where I could find him when I needed him.
