Less Is Lost (Arthur Less #2)

by Andrew Sean Greer

is a chore and an honor and a comedy to live with them both.

like picking up a novel only to discover the novel has been writing itself while you were away.

the previous pages have been torn out; there is no rereading. You have to start from where you are—where your country is—and simply plod ahead.

You are seeing suffering, Robert used to say when confronted with a horrible person. You are seeing someone in pain.

you love someone, you have to love them every day. You have to choose them every day.”

it feels ordinary to Arthur Less not to belong. What could be more normal than to be out of place everywhere you go? What could be more American?

He can see the expression on his face, and what is one to do with pity?

Who knows why? Who knows why anything happens in America?

laugh at the ghastly thing that has happened to her.

this is house-on-fire shit. This is grabbing what to save. This is leaving shit behind. This is once-in-a-lifetime suffering and pain and heartache and yet it may be your only chance to decide what you really want. None of this I don’t want to change bullshit. Hell no—you’ve changed. That’s happened. Now what? Everything changes and this one fucking time, you’re in charge of it, my God, so choose! Make the wrong choice, that’s fine! That’s fine! But choose.’” Rebecca

That in real life, there are no protagonists. Or, rather, the reverse: It’s nothing but protagonists. It’s protagonists all the way down.

to understand myself. What if you had to wake up every day with someone promising a miracle, and every day you believed it, and every day it didn’t happen? Don’t we all look at our beloveds sometimes and think, Why do I stay? Why do we stay? There is something vital in staying.

He is not the best. But he is the best I ever had.

Just take the ordinary time machine. And try to grow old. Old and foolish and happy.