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It was the first time I had ever made love. I wondered if he knew that. It felt like crying. I wondered, Why does anyone ever make love?
Jonathan Safran Foer
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Jonathan Safran Foer
Age: 47
Born: 1977
Born: February 21
Novelist
Writer
Washington
District of Columbia
Made
Cry
Make
Knew
Anyone
Time
Felt
Love
Doe
Like
Ever
Firsts
Wondered
First
Crying
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Not responding is a response--we are equally responsible for what we don't do. In the case of animal slaughter, to throw your hands in the air is to wrap your fingers around a knife handle.
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We need enormous pockets, pockets big enough for our families and our friends, and even the people who aren't on our lists, people we've never met but still want to protect. We need pockets for boroughs and for cities, a pocket that could hold the universe.
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I wanted to hit him. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to shout myself into his ear.
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It was getting hard to keep all the things I didn't know inside me.
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The end of suffering does not justify the suffering, what a mess I am, I thought, what a fool, how foolish and narrow, how worthless, how pinched and pathetic, how helpless.
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How beautiful is forgetting! What relief it would be for the world to lose some of its contents.
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We shared the smile of recognizing ourselves in each other.
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I was more alone than if I had been alone.
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Years were passing through the spaces between moments.
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