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Category: Audrey Niffenegger

Audrey Niffenegger

But I don’t want to just believe it, I want it to be true.

adolescence, believe, claire-abshire, god, st-thomas-aquinas

Audrey Niffenegger

He was not in the house. He did not come back that night. Days went by, and at last she understood that he would not return at all.

Audrey Niffenegger

I’m living under water. Everything seems slow and far away. I know there’s a world up there, a sunlit quick world where time runs like dry sand through an hourglass, but down here, where I am, air and sound and time and feeling are thick and dense.

Audrey Niffenegger

The Garden Under Snow “Now the garden is under snow a blank page our footprints write onclare who was never minebut always belonged to herselfSleeping Beautya crystalline blanketthis is her springthis is her sleeping/awakeningshe is waitingeverything is waitingthe improbable shapes of rootsmy babyher facea garden, waiting.

audrey-niffenegger, poem, the-time-traveler-s-wife

Audrey Niffenegger

He would say her name over and over until it devolved into meaningless sounds – mah REI kuh, mah REI kuh – it became an entry in a dictionary of loneliness.

Audrey Niffenegger

Time, let me vanish. Then what we separate by our very presence can come together.

connection, time

Audrey Niffenegger

Long ago, men went to sea, and women waited for them, standing on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship. Now I wait for Henry. He vanishes unwillingly, without warning. I wait for him. Each moment that I wait feels like a year, an eternity. Each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting. Why has he gone where I cannot follow?

lose, lost-love, moment

Audrey Niffenegger

The space that I can call mine, that isn’t full of Henry, is so small that my ideas have become small.

artists, artists-in-love, love

Audrey Niffenegger

…and I suddenly feel that Henry is there, incredible need for Henry to be there and to put his hand on me even while it seems to me that Henry is the rain and I am alone and wanting him- Clare

Audrey Niffenegger

I fell asleep. But later that night I woke up. There was moonlight coming through the window, and shadows of tree branches fell onto the bed, waving gently in the breeze.””And then you saw the ghost?”James laughed. “Dear chap, the branches WERE the ghost. There weren’t any trees within a hundred yards of that house. They’d all been cut down years before. I saw the ghost of a tree.

Audrey Niffenegger

But now, I know, how absence can be present, like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird.

absence, dark-bird, life, present

Audrey Niffenegger

Why do you have a cigarette lighter in your glove compartment?” her husband, Jack, asked her. “I’m bored with knitting. I’ve taken up arson

arson, knitting, sarcasm, smoking