Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

by Gabrielle Zevin

Sadie liked the phrase “an abundance of caution.” It reminded her of a murder of crows, a flock of seagulls, a pack of wolves. She imagined that “caution” was a creature of some kind—maybe, a cross between a Saint Bernard and an elephant. A large, intelligent, friendly animal that could be counted on to defend the Green sisters from threats, existential and otherwise.

This life is filled with inescapable moral compromises. We should do what we can to avoid the easy ones.”

The kind of laugh where a person didn’t feel that he was being laughed at. The kind of laugh that was an invitation: I cordially invite you to join in this matter that I find amusing.

There is a time for any fledgling artist where one’s taste exceeds one’s abilities.

Other people’s parents are often a delight.