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There was only the cemetery itself, spread out in the moonlight like a soft grey hallucination, a stony wilderness of Victorian melancholy.

Audrey Niffenegger

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Audrey Niffenegger
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: June 13
Artist
Author
Novelist
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
University Teacher
Visual Artist
Writer
South Haven
Michigan
Moonlight
Grey
Melancholy
Wilderness
Stony
Soft
Hallucination
Spread
Hallucinations
Like
Victorian
Cemetery

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I feel that I an everything to her.
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He thanked her and left the house in the mood of a shipwrecked man who has allowed the rescue ship to pass him by.
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We are often insane with happiness. We are also very unhappy for reasons neither of us can do anything about. Like being separated.
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My family isn't posh they're musicians.
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I won't ever leave you, even though you're always leaving me.
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Every minute of his life since then has been marked by her absence, every action has lacked dimension because she is not there to measure against. And when I was young I didn't understand, but now, I know, how absence can be present, like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird.
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I never understood why Clark Kent was so hell bent on keeping Lois Lane in the dark.
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It's funny how we like labels. If I ever have a bookstore, I'm not going to put any labels on the sections.
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But you make me happy. It's living up to being happy that's the difficult part.
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But you know: you know that if I could have stayed, if I could have gone on, that I would have clutched every second: whatever it was, this death, you know that it came and took me, like a child carried away by goblins.
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...and I suddenly feel that Henry is there, incredible need for Henry to be there and to put his hand on me even while it seems to me that Henry is the rain and I am alone and wanting him - Clare
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I look at him, look at the book, remember, this book, this moment, the first book I ever loved
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we both smile and we are conspirators.
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Time passes and the pain begins to roll in and out as though it’s a woman standing at an ironing board, passing the iron back and forth, back and forth across a white tablecloth.
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Don't you think it's better to be extremely happy for a short while, even if you lose it, than to be just okay for your whole life?
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In the dim light of the computer screen he seemed otherworldly Julia thought him beautiful, though she knew it was the beauty of damage.
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You can still be cool when you’re dead. In fact, it’s much easier, because you aren’t getting old and fat and losing your hair.
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