Here’s the best of what I read this week:
We envisioned an old age on a front porch somewhere, each other’s comfort, companions for life. But life takes twists and turns. There is good luck and bad.
From A Three Dog Life
by Abigail Thomas
Sunday Sentence, July 13, 2014: A Three Dog Life
Sunday Sentence, May 18, 2014: The Husband’s Secret
The best of what I have read this week come’s from The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty:
“A red traffic light loomed, and Cecilia slammed her foot on the brake. The fact that Polly no longer wanted a pirate party was breathtakingly insignificant in comparison to that poor man (thirty!) crashing to the ground for the freedom that Cecilia took for granted, but right now, she couldn’t pause to honor his memory, because a last-minute change of party theme was unacceptable. That’s what happened when you had freedom. You lost your mind over a pirate party.”
From The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty
Sunday Sentence, May 11, 2014: The Husband’s Secret
The best of what I have read this week come’s from:
“Then she changed her mind, put the cups back down, and while Will and Felicity watched, she carefully selected the two fullest cups, lifted them up in the palms of her her hands, and with a netballer’s careful aim, threw cold coffee straight at their stupid, earnest, sorry faces.”
From The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty
Sunday Sentence: February 23, 2014
The Sunday Sentence is “simply put, the best sentence(s) I’ve read this past week, presented out of context and without commentary.” author David Abrams.
“What his son, Marty, never fully understood was that deep down there was an Ethel-shaped hole in Henry’s life, and without her, all he felt was the draft of loneliness, cold and sharp, the years slipping away like blood from a wound that never heals.”
From The Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet
by Jamie Ford
Sunday Sentence, January 5, 2014
The Sunday Sentence is “simply put, the best sentence(s) I’ve read this past week, presented out of context and without commentary.” author David Abrams.
I couldn’t pick just one. Or two. Or even three.
“They bred dogs for everything else, even diving for fish, why didn’t they breed them to live as long as man?”
“I stood back of the new garden watching the sun touch the mountains and ruddle the turned dirt and the threads of water and I can say there was something moving inside that resembled a kind of happiness.”
“It caught me sometimes: that this was okay. Just this. That simple beauty was still bearable barely, and that if I lived moment to moment, garden to stove to the simple act of flying, I could have peace.”
“One thing about everybody dying is that you don’t have to use the designated runway.”
“Grief is an element. It has its own cycle like the carbon cycle, the nitrogen. It never diminishes not ever. It passes in and out of everything.”
“The flakes stuck in my eyelashes. They fell on my sleeves. Huge. Flowers and stars. They fell onto each other, held their shapes, became small piles of perfect asterisks and blooms tumbled together in their discrete geometries like children’s blocks.”
“Why don’t we have a word for the utterance between laughing and crying?”
“Amazing how not having to kill someone frees up a relationship generally.”
All from The Dog Stars by Peter Heller