Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Every Moment Before This One Depends On This One

"Table, ivory, elephant charm, rainbow, onion, hairdo, mollusk, Shabbos, violence, cuticle, melodrama, ditch, honey, doily...None of it moved her. She addressed her world honestly, searching for something deserving of the volumes of love she knew she had within her, but to each she would have to say, I don't love you. Bark-brown fence post: I don't love you. Poem too long: I don't love you. Lunch in a bowl: I don't love you. Physics, the idea of you, the laws of you: I don't love you. Nothing felt like anything more than what it actually was. Everything was just a thing, mired completely in its thingness.

If we were to open a random page in her journal- which she must have kept and kept with her at all times, not fearing that it would be lost, or discovered and read, but that she would one day stumble upon that thing which was finally worth writing about and remembering, only to find that she had no place to write it- we would find some rendering of the following sentiment: I am not in love"
 
-Johnathan Safran Foer

2 comments:

  1. lauren Girrrrrrrrl ;)January 13, 2010 at 11:59 PM

    do you even know this is my other favorite book in the world! wow. we are book heart twins.

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  2. Sweet jesus, this man just made my entire year with his writing. These books are (insert the most incredible adjective that ever exists here)!!!!!

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