Tag: love, time

Joseph O'Neill

No, it was simply that I was uninterested in making, as I saw it, a Xerox of some old emotional state. I was in my mid-thirties, with a marriage more or less behind me. I was no longer vulnerable to curiosity’s enormous momentum. I had nothing new to murmur to another on the subject of myself and not the smallest eagerness about being briefed on Danielle’s supposedly unique trajectory—a curve described under the action, one could safely guess, of the usual material and maternal and soulful longings, a few thwarting tics of character, and luck good and bad. A life seemed like an old story.

Robert Frost

The TelephoneWhen I was just as far as I could walkFrom here todayThere was an hourAll stillWhen leaning with my head against a flowerI heard you talk.Don’t say I didn’t for I heard you sayYou spoke from that flower on the window sill-Do you remember what it was you said ”First tell me what it was you thought you heard.”Having found the flower and driven a bee awayI leaned my headAnd holding by the stalkI listened and I thought I caught the wordWhat was itDid you call me by my name Or did you saySomeone said “Come”I heard it as I bowed.”I may have thought as much but not aloud.’Well so I came.

Jonathan Safran Foer

From space, astronauts can see people making love as a tiny speck of light. Not light, exactly, but a glow that could be confused for light – a coital radiance that takes generations to pour like honey through the darkness to the astronaut’s eyes.In about one and a half centuries – after the lovers who made the glow will have long since been laid permanently on their backs – the metropolitan cities will be seen from space. They will glow all year. Smaller cities will also be seen, but with great difficulty. Towns will be virtually impossible to spot. Individual couples invisible.