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He removed several pages of death certificates, which were picked up by another breeze and sent into the trees. Some would fall with the leaves that September. Some would fall with the trees generations later.
Jonathan Safran Foer
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Jonathan Safran Foer
Age: 47
Born: 1977
Born: February 21
Novelist
Writer
Washington
District of Columbia
Pages
Removed
Later
Breeze
Generations
Picked
Tree
September
Fall
Sent
Death
Several
Another
Trees
Would
Leaves
Certificates
More quotes by Jonathan Safran Foer
As I've grown older, I've grown more convinced there's nothing that shouldn't be talked about. If we think we're protecting each other, we're not.
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I realized that your mother couldn't see the emptiness, she couldn't see anything...All of the words I'd written to her over all of those years, had I never said anything to hear at all?
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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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...people with nothing to declare carry the most.
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There has yet to be a human to survive a span of history without at least one end of the world.
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and i wouldn't say no to something sweet.
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This is love, she thought, isn't it? When you notice someone's absence and hate that absence more than anything? More, even, than you love his presence?
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It's the tragedy of loving, you can't love anything more than something you miss.
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Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does.
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Sometimes I imagined stitching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love? Why does anyone ever make love?
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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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Hunting will never feed lots of people it will always be a hobby.
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We looked at each other until it felt like everything would burst into flames
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You're incredibly beautiful,' I told her, because she was fat, so I thought it would be an especially nice compliment, and also make her like me again, even though I was sexist.
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What's so horrible about being dead forever, and not feeling anything, and not even dreaming? What's so great about feeling and dreaming?
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It can be challenge enough to have to eat with myself.
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We need a better way to talk about eating animals, a way that doesn't ignore, or even just shruggingly accept things like habits, cravings, family and history, but rather incorporates them into the conversation. The more they are allowed in, the more strongly we will want to follow our best instincts.
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I shook my tambourine the whole time, because it helped me remember that even though I was going through different neighborhoods, I was still me.
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She felt as if she were brimming, always producing and hoarding more love inside her. But there was no release.
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