Bokelskere.no

[...] alone in the magnitude of his grief when he understood that he would die before he could tell Brod how beautiful she was that day (which was worth more than a good brain), and that he was not her real father but wished with every blessing, every day and night of his life, that he was; before he could tell her of his dream of eternal life with her, of dying with her, or never dying.

She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, appreciating its subtle manners. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum.

[...] using his body to remember his body

Suddenly Yankel was overcome with a fear of dying, stronger than he felt when his parents passed of natural causes, stronger than when his only brother was killed in the flour mill or when his children died, stronger even when he was a child and it first occurred to him that he must try to understand what it could mean not to be alive––to be not in darkness, not in unfeeling––to be not being, not to be.

But who among you were the first to notice the negative bird it left in the window? Who first saw the shadow that the bird left behind, the shadow that drew blood from any finger that dared to trace it, the shadow that was the better proof of the bird's existence than the bird ever was? Who was with me when I mourned the death of my son, when I excused myself to bury that bird with my own hands?

"You were able to Z Z Z Z Z?" I asked. "What?" "Did you manage to manufacture any Z's?"

In the past seven years of love-making he had heard the words so many times: from the mouths of widows and children, from prostitutes, family friends, travelers, and adulterous wives. Women had said 'I love you' without his ever speaking. 'The more you love someone', he came to think, 'the harder it is to tell them.' It surprised him that strangers didn't stop each other on the street to say 'I love you'.

En dag vil du gjøre ting for meg som du hater. Det betyr å være en familie.

"Your train ride appeased you?" I asked. "Oh, god," he said, "twenty-six hours, fucking unbelievable." This girl Unbelievable must be very majestic, I thought.

Yankel forelsket seg i denne kvinnen som aldri hadde vært hans hustru. Han våknet og savnet vekten av den kroppen som aldri hadde laget fordypninger i sengen ved siden av ham, mintes på fullt alvor ettertrykket av gester hun aldri hadde laget, lengtet etter at ikke-vekten av ikke-armen hennes skulle slynge seg rundt hans altfor virkelige bryst, hvilket gjorde hans enkemannserindringer enda mer overbevisende og smerten desto mer reell.