Sara Gruen
When you are five, you know your age down to the month. Even in your twenties, you know how old you are. I'm twenty-three you say, or maybe twenty-seven. But then in your thirties, something strange starts to happen. It is a mere hiccup at first, an instant of hesitation. How old are you? Oh, I'm--you start confidently, but then you stop. You were going to say thirty-three, but you are not. You're thirty-five. And then you're bothered, because you wonder if this is the beginning of the end. It is, of course, but it's decades before you admit it.Collection: Age
Life is the most spectacular show on earth.Collection: Earth
When two people are meant to be together, they will be together. It's fate.Collection: Fate
When will people learn that just because you can make something doesn’t mean you should?Collection: Mean
Age is a terrible thief. Just when you're getting the hang of life, it knocks your legs out from under you and stoops your back. It makes you ache and muddies your head and silently spreads cancer throughout your spouse.Collection: Cancer
The more distressing the memory, the more persistent it's presence.Collection: Memories
How is it that everyone on this train has so much alcohol?" "We always head to Canada at the beginning of the season," she says taking her seat again. "Their laws are much more civilized. Cheers.Collection: Cheer
I scan the room. Catherine is writing quickly, her light brown hair falling over her face. She is left-handed, and because she writes in pencil her left arm is silver from wrist to elbow.Collection: Fall
Keeping up the appearance of having all your marbles is hard work, but important.Collection: Hard Work
I have to convince myself that this is not a pointless life, even the body is telling me so.Collection: Body
The only thing that makes me crazier than writing is not writing.Collection: Writing
Dear God. Not only am I unemployed and homeless, but I also have a pregnant woman, bereaved dog, elephant, and eleven horses to take care of.Collection: Dog
I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin. I want.Collection: Love
I stare at her for a long moment. I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.Collection: Kissing
It's as though I've been sleepwalking and suddenly woken to find myself hereCollection: Sleepwalking
I hate this bizarre policy of protective exclusion, because it effectively writes me off the page.Collection: Hate
I stroke her lightly, memorizing her body. I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin. I lie motionless, savoring the feeling of her body against mine. I'm afraid to breathe in case I break the spell.Collection: Lying
He stares at me, and then leans back in his chair. "He's ill, Jacob." I say nothing. "He's a paragon schnitzophonic." "He's what?!" "Paragon schnitzophonic," repeats Uncle Al. "You mean paranoid schizophrenic?" "Sure. Whatever. But the bottom line is he's mad as a hatter.Collection: Uncles
You do right by me, I'll show you a life most suckers can't even dream of.Collection: Dream
It's just a crazy damned life, that's all.Collection: Crazy
I was always searching, always seeking the next big thing, because that was the thing that was going to make everything all right again. And while I was working toward it, it gave me something to think about other than that thing I couldn't put my finger on. But it always came back.Collection: Thinking
I had my whole life planned.. I knew exactly where it was taking me.Collection: Whole Life
Afterward, I curl around her. We lie in silence until darkness falls, and then, haltingly, she begins to talk...She speaks without need or even room for response, so I simply hold her and stroke her hair. She talks of the pain, grief, and horror of the past four years; of learning to cope with being the wife of a man so violent and unpredictable his touch made her skin crawl and of thinking, until quite recently, that she'd finally managed to do that. And then, finally, of how my appearance had forced her to realize she hadn't learned to cope at all.Collection: Pain
...if you expect people to try to do things your way, you're going to have to give some hints as to what that way is.Collection: People
Sometimes I think that if I had to choose between an ear of corn or making love to a woman, I'd choose the corn. Not that I wouldn't love to have a final roll in the hay - I am a man yet, and something never die - but the thought of those sweet kernels bursting between my teeth sure sets my mouth to watering. It's fantasy, I know that. Neither will happen. I just like to weight the options, as though I were standing in front of Solomon: a final roll in the hay or an ear of corn. What a wonderful dilemma. Sometimes I substitute an apple for the corn.Collection: Sweet
I cling to my anger with every ounce of humanity left in my ruined body, but it's no use. It slips away, like a wave from shore. I am pondering this sad fact when I realize the blackness of sleep is circling my head. It's been there awhile, biding it's time and growing closer with each revolution. I give up on rage, which at this point has become a formality, and make a mental note to get angry again in the morning. Then I let myself drift, because there's really no fighting it.Collection: Morning
Sometimes when you get older — and I’m not talking about you, I’m talking generally, because everyone ages differently — things you think on and wish on start to seem real. And then you believe them, and before you know it they’re part of your history, and if someone challenges you on them and says they’re not true — why, then you get offended because you can’t remember the first part. All you know is that you’ve been called a liar.Collection: Real
Sometimes I think if I had to choose between an ear of corn or making love to a woman, I'd choose the corn.Collection: Thinking
Although, pretending not to notice is almost worse than noticing.Collection: Pretending
I don't like outlining, because books are organic things. Sometimes a book doesn't want to be written in a certain way.Collection: Book
Honey, I plan to marry you the moment the ink is dry on that death certificate.Collection: Ink
When did I stop being me?Collection: Being Me
They grew fat and happy--the horses, not the children, or Marlena for that matter.Collection: Horse
I'm truly grateful for my microwave, which allows me to easily clarify butter, steam vegetables, and - when I am really lazy - feed my three kids in less than five minutes.Collection: Grateful
But it all zipped by. One minute Marlena and I were up to our eyeballs, and the next thing we knew the kids were borrowing the car and fleeing the coop for college. And now, here I am. In my nineties and alone.Collection: Kids
The thought has cheered me, and I'd like to hang onto that. Must protect my little pockets of happiness.Collection: Pockets
i'm afraid to breathe in case i break the spellCollection: Breathe
I am ninety. Or ninety-three. One or the other.Collection: Three
Even when I look straight into the milky blue eyes I can't find myself any more. When did I stop being me?Collection: Eye
Why the hell shouldn't I run away with the circus?Collection: Running
Gorillas are in danger of being wiped out by the Ebola virus. I feel like we have limited time to get to know them and understand them and they're going to disappear - that's terrifically sad. Wouldn't it be great if we could stop that?Collection: Ebola
I think there is just a vein of humanity that really loves animals and really loves to read about them.Collection: Animal
You work hard on a book and throw it out there and then it's beyond your control.Collection: Book
Don't want to get tipsy and break a hip.Collection: Want
So what if I'm ninety-three? So what if I'm ancient and cranky and my body's a wreck? If they're willing to accept me and my guilty conscience, why the hell shouldn't I run away with the circus?Collection: Running
Juliet is one of those rare novels that has it all: lush prose, tightly intertwined parallel narratives, intrigue, and historical detail all set against a backdrop of looming danger. Anne Fortier casts a new light on one of history's greatest stories of passion. I was swept away.Collection: Passion
I just think I'm better equipped to make a study of human personality than trying to get into the mind of animals.Collection: Animal
At this moment, the story in his head was perfect. He also knew from experience that it would degenerate the second he started typing, because such was the nature of writing.Collection: Writing
My platitudes don't hold their interest and I can hardly blame them for that. My real stories are all out of date. So what if I can speak firsthand about the Spanish flu, the advent of the automobile, world wars, cold wars, guerrilla wars, and Sputnik — that's all ancient history now. But what else do I have to offer? Nothing happens to me anymore. That's the reality of getting old, and I guess that's really the crux of the matter. I'm not ready to be old yet.Collection: Real
I tend not to think about the reading public at all, or the business, when I'm writing.Collection: Reading