April 2009

“

Natalie leaned in and put her elbows on the table. “Don’t you ever just feel like we’re chasing something? Something bigger? I don’t know, it’s like something that only you and I can see. Like we’re running, running, running?”

“Yeah,” I said. “We’re running alright. Running with scissors.”

” —Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs

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“Under the spreading chestnut tree
I sold you and you sold me.
There lie they, and here lie we
Under the spreading chestnut tree” —1984 by George Orwell

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“Touching him was always so important to me. It was something I lived for. I could never explain why. Little, nothing touches. My fingers against his shoulder. The outsides of our thights touching as we squeezed together on the bus. I couldn’t explain it, but I needed it. 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?” —Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

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