…from the books I’m “supposed” to be reading (even if the person who assigned them is…well, me). This is what happens when you work in a library.
from Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri
“He thought of how long it had been since she looked into his eyes and smiled, or whipered his name on those rare occasions they still reached for each other’s bodies before sleeping.” (A Temporary Matter)
“I wondered if the reason he was always so smartly dressed was in preparation to endure with dignity whatever news assailed him, perhaps even to attend a funeral at a moment’s notice.” (When Mr. Pirzada Came to Dine)
“I put the chocolate in my mouth, letting it soften until the last possible moment, and then as I chewed it slowly, I prayed that Mr. Pirzada’s family was safe and sound…That night when I went to the bathroom I only pretended to brush my teeth, for fear that I would rinse the prayer out as well. I wet the brush to prevent my parents from asking any questions, and fell asleep with sugar on my tongue.” (When Mr. Pirzada Came to Dine)
“In truth, Sanjeev did not know what love was, only what he thought it was not.” (This Blessed House)
“At night we kissed, shy at first but quickly bold, and discovered pleasure and solace in each other’s arms.” (The Third and Final Continent)
From Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen
“I began to feel revulsion too. Insane people: I had a good nose for them and I didn’t want to have anything to do with them. I still don’t. I can’t come up with reassuring answers to the terrible questions they raise.”
“One of the great pleasures of mental health (whatever that is) is how much less time I have to spend thinking about myself.”
And another thing: Flowers. From my best friend.