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The Reader
- “I'm not frightened. I'm not frightened of anything. The more I suffer, the more I love.
Danger will only increase my love. It will sharpen it, forgive its vice. I will be the only
angel you need. You will leave life even more beautiful than you entered it. Heaven will
take you back and look at you and say: Only one thing can make a soul complete and
that thing is love.”
- “Why? Why does what was beautiful suddenly shatter in
hindsight because it concealed dark truths? Why does
the memory of years of happy marriage turn to gall when
our partner is revealed to have had a lover all those
years? Because such a situation makes it impossible to
be happy? But we were happy! Sometimes the memory
of happiness cannot stay true because it ended
unhappily. Because happiness is only real if it lasts
forever? Because things always end painfully if they
contained pain, conscious or unconscious, all along? But
what is unconscious, unrecognized pain?”
- “Desires, memories, fears, passions form labyrinths in which we lose and find and then lose ourselves
again.”
- “But then she was not awkward, she was slow-flowing, graceful, seductive - a seductiveness that had nothing
to do with breast and hips and legs, but was an invitation to forget the world in the recesses of the body”
- “In the past, I had particularly loved her smell. She always smelled fresh, freshly washed or of fresh
laundry or fresh sweat or freshly loved”
- “When she had fallen asleep on me, and the saw in the yard was quiet, and a blackbird was singing as the
colours of things in the kitchen dimmed until nothing remained of them but lighter and darker shades of gray, I
was completely happy.”
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