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I wanted to hit him. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to shout myself into his ear.

Jonathan Safran Foer

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Jonathan Safran Foer
Age: 47
Born: 1977
Born: February 21
Novelist
Writer
Washington
District of Columbia
Wanted
Shout
Ears
Hold

More quotes by Jonathan Safran Foer

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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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I went to the guest room and pretended to write. I hit the space bar again and again and again. My life story was spaces.
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I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live.
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I desperately wish I had my tambourine with me now, because even after everything I'm still wearing heavy boots, and sometimes it helps to play a good beat
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I am willing to be annoying if that's what was necessary.
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There's nothing wrong with not understanding yourself.
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Well, what I don't get is why do we exist? I don't mean how, but why.' I watched the fireflies of his thoughts orbit his head. He said, 'we exist because we exist. . .we could imagine all sorts of universes like this one, but this is the one that happened.
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It was not the feeling of completeness I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty.
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Is there really anyone, besides Rudy Giuliani, who prefers the new Times Square?
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We looked at each other until it felt like everything would burst into flames
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I could tell that Mom was dreaming, but I didn't want to know what she was dreaming about, because I had enough of my own nightmares, and if she had been dreaming something happy, I would have been angry at her for dreaming something happy.
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My test for writing is always, is this fun or does it feel like a job? Is it moving me? Or am I just fulfilling my own expectations - or even worse, somebody else's?
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She wanted more, more slang, more figures of speech, the bee's knees, the cats pajamas, horse of a different color, dog-tired, she wanted to talk like she was born here, like she never came from anywhere else
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I see myself as someone who makes things. Definitions have never done anything but constrain.
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Living on a planet of fixed size requires compromise, and while we are the only party capable of negotiating, we are not the only party at the table. We've never claimed more, and we've never had less.
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August has passed, and yet summer continues by force to grow days. They sprout secretly between the chapters of the year, covertly included between its pages.
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To remember my values, I need to lose certain tastes and find other handles for the memories that they once helped me carry.
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I'm interested in the kind of religion that makes life harder. I'm not so interested in the comforting kind of religion.
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Everything that's born has to die, which means our lives are like skyscrapers. The smoke rises at different speeds, but they're all on fire, and we're all trapped.
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