Machel > Recent Status Updates

Happiness doesn't come in dry goods of varying sizes. Happiness isn't a bulk product

*Hornby -hate auto correct on this smartphone.

My words: Honestly this book is a we bit depressing 're: marriage/divorce thing.' I had put it down, but found myself wondering about the characters and what happened next to them. Nick Hornsby is a pro at character development and conversation. I love his work. I am glad I am finishing this book.

I think everything you think. But I am going to walk it like I talk it.

We despise our politicians for doing nothing, and think that this is somehow enough to show we care, and meanwhile we live in centrally heated houses that are too big for us.

tears...Paul is dead. Y.M. is the best writer I have read in years. I am defunct of words to express what his language teaches me. I am not a writer...

A dark comedy with real characters that are on the edge of their life. Thought provoking and sad with edge and wit. A page turner with surprising twists....I like N.H.'s theme I see in his books of strangers connecting and reshaping someone's life. I believe in that sort of thing.

You can let parts of yourself die. Jess's mother had let her face die, and I watched it come to life again.

We live in a place where there were holes in the walls and anyone could stick their head through them if they wanted to and make faces at us.

And you probably also know that when you look out of an airplane window and see the world shrink like that, you can't help but think about the whole of your life, from the beginning and so where you are now and everyone you've ever known.

You get the weight of everything wrong. You have to guess all the time whether things are heavy or light, especially things inside you and you get it wrong and it puts people off. I'm tired of it.

We had nothing in common apart from where we had ended up, on that square of concrete high up in the air, and that was the biggest thing you could possibly have in common with anyone.

She was wrong. He was almost positive.You could shut life out. If you didn't answer the door, how was it going to get in?

He was one of life's visitors; he didn't want to be visited.

They trudged towards the picnic, feeling old and beaten and found out.

His career as a serial nice guy had begun.

Maybe children democratized beautiful single women.

A ittle under the weather. looking forward to reading Amy Tan.

It has only happened to me twice in my life: I could hardly see him for the fish in my eyes. A density of anglefish, clownfish, goldfish, tigerfish, starfish, a suspension of seaweed, a gentle cavaclade of seahorses.

Love is a form of childhood in the way we become capable again of being wholly enthralled able to believe so much so easily so intensely.

What was gained by truth that left one with an empty feeling? I could get by without Hod in the ilkusory infinity of my daily hours, but what if I were in a plane crash, would I not miss him?

Every mile absorbed a tear, so I was able to smile at the airport.

But we were not Sherman tanks. We were two women wearing conservative cotton clothes traveling in a big, male country.

Traveling is like an acceleration: it's hard to stop, you don't want to stop. Changes becomes a habit and habits are hard to change.

Memory is a glue: it attaches you to everything, even to what you don't like.

Memory is a glue: it you to everything, even to what you don't like.

And since the touching of lips in the greeting of tongues are the doorway to the house of passion we sat meekly on the threshold.

I blossomed in the regimental order of organized education.

Acne was the lowest circle of hell that I visited during my adolescence.