Bokelskere.no

I feel I stand in a desert with my hands outstretched, and you are raining down upon me.

What was it to love someone, what was love exactly, and why did it end or not end? Those were the real questions, and who could answer them?

Then Carol slipped her arm under her neck, and all the length of their bodies touched, fitting as if something had prearranged it. Happiness was like a green vine spreading through her, stretching fine tendrils, bearing flowers through her flesh. She had a vision of a pale white flower, shimmering as if seen in darkness, or through water. Why did people talk of heaven, she wondered.

How anyone could have read Gertrude Stein without reading any Joyce, Richard said, he didn't know.