Monday, April 28, 2008

Flood

"He could change every detail, but he couldn't change her."

"Because he was in love with her!" I said. "Because, to him, she was the only thing that was real."

The things I want to say get stuck in my mouth.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. It took seven languages to make me; it would be nice if I could have spoken just one. But I couldn't, so he leaned down and kissed me.

A thought crossed his face in a language I could not understand.

Lonely people are always up in the middle of the night.

Once Misha told me there was no word in Russian for privacy.


From Nicole Krauss' The History of Love.

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