When people have asked me in the past if I'm gay, I've said "I'm not gay, but I'm festive. "
I just can't. I'm married. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it.
When you are five, you know your age down to the month. Even in your twenties, you know how old you are. I'm twenty-three you say, or maybe twenty-seven. But then in your thirties, something strange starts to happen. It is a mere hiccup at first, an instant of hesitation. How old are you? Oh, I'm--you start confidently, but then you stop. You were going to say thirty-three, but you are not. You're thirty-five. And then you're bothered, because you wonder if this is the beginning of the end. It is, of course, but it's decades before you admit it.
Keeping up the appearance of having all your marbles is hard work, but important.
After sixty-one years together, she simply clutched my hand and exhaled.
Must protect my little pockets of happiness.
The sky the sky- same as it always was.
What is a disaster for most is an opportunity for a few.
God gave a law. . . called justice. But they have made a law for themselves that is terrible and intricate, and they cannot escape it, for the evil will and the good will are caught alike in its meshes, and it is darkness to the eyes that see and a stumbling block to the feet that run. This law is called necessity.
People don't realize the limitations of 200 words, and the way they get chiselled down into a song that has to be sung.
I've read Proust and Stendhal. That keeps you in your place.