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After the dress rehearsal that afternoon, someone had misplaced the vial of poison, and for lack of better, Romeo would have to commit suicide by eating Tic Tacs.

Anne Fortier

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Anne Fortier
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: November 10
Novelist
Writer
DK
Eating
Rehearsal
Someone
Afternoon
Better
Poison
Would
Dress
Suicide
Vial
Dresses
Tics
Commit
Romeo
Lack
Misplaced

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Think about it. He drinks poison. What kind of man drinks poison? She is the one who stabs herself with his dagger. The manly way.
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I am sorry I didn’t tell you the truth before. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. You kept asking about Romeo and what he was really like. I was hoping that”—he smiled wistfully—“you would recognize me.
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While at Oxford in 1999, I met Jonathan Fortier, who is a Montreal-born Canadian. Despite the challenges of a transatlantic relationship, we remained keen on each other and eventually married in 2002.
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Only weak men want women to be weak.
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We are all cups, and our destiny is poured according to measures we cannot understand, cannot influence.
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Perhaps. But the firstborn of hope is tragedy.
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Great love, you believe, carries the seeds of great sorrow. Well, perhaps you are right. Perhaps the wise spurn one to remain safe from the other, but I should rather choose to have my eyes burnt in their sockets than to have been born without.
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And whether or not we had now paid our dues, he was my blessing, and I was his.
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You were right and I was wrong. When life hurts more than death, it is not worth living.
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Peppo! I yelled, pulling at my cousin's suspenders. I really don't want to be arrested, okay? Don't worry! Peppo turned a corner and accelerated as he spoke. I go too fast for police!
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But he is an Italian, was Umberto's sensible reply. He doesn't care if you break some law a little bit, as long as you wear beautiful shoes. Are you wearing beautiful shoes? Are you wearing the shoes I gave you?...principessa? I looked down at my flip-flops. I guess I'm toast.
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If you let go of me now,” I whispered, stretching against him, “it could be another six hundred years before you find me again. Are you willing to take that risk?
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Verona is a very beautiful city, but Siena just never ceases to fascinate me.
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When the old men fight, the young people die.
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I absolutely believe the past had its share of warrior women who fought like men. Whether some of these were the actual Amazons from Greek myth is another matter.
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Who is more amateurish, more vulnerable---those who rely on machines that need to be plugged in, or logged on, or in some other way connected in order to be more than a useless slab of plastic ... or those who have learned to master life without?
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A novel is, hopefully, the starting point of a conversation, one in which the author engages readers and asks that they see things from a different point of view than they might otherwise.
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Everything we say is a story. But nothing we say is just a story.
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By the time we left college, I had become my own image: a dandelion in the flower bed of society. Kinda cute, but still a weed.
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I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said, “at nine o’clock. Don’t open your door to anyone else.” “Not even my balcony door?” “Especially not your balcony door.
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