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He had slept next to her for thirty-six years, and the mattress felt different without her weight, however slight, and without the rhythm of her breat...more

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I was familiar with the little mating rituals of getting to know each other, of dragging out the stories from childhood, summer camp, and high school,...more

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And he isn't crying for her, not for his grandma, he's crying for himself: that he: too, is going to die one day. And before that his friends wil die,...more

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In life we sit at the table and refuse to eat, and in death we are eternally hungry.

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There are moments when a kind of clarity comes over you, and suddenly you can see through walls to another dimension that you'd forgotten or chosen to...more

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I read differently now, more painstakingly, knowing I am probably revisiting the books I love for the last time. (245)

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Because it hardly ends with falling in love. Just the opposite. I don't need to tell you, Your Honor, I sense that you understand true loneliness. How...more

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The kiss stayed there with no place to go, no sensory reserve that could absorb it and file it away as a common act of intimacy, a thousand times rece...more

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The woman who later became his wife was sleeping in his bed, her face buried in the pillows and her feet crossed on top of each other like a child's. ...more

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When you are young, you think it's going to be solved by love. But it never is. Being close -- as close as you can get -- to another person only makes...more

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When you're young, you think it's going to be solved by love. But it never is. Being close-as close as you can get-to another person only makes it cle...more

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You fall in love, it's intoxicating, an for a little while you feel like you've actually become one with the other person. Merged souls, and so on. Yo...more

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Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with a stick. Her hair ...more

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Her kiss was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.

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These things are lost to oblivion like so much about so many who are born and die without anyone taking the time to write it all down. That Litvinoff ...more