Love is deep, a mystery - who wants to understand its every particular?

Michael Cunningham

Michael Cunningham

Profession: Novelist
Nationality: American


Love is deep, a mystery - who wants to understand its every particular? Michael Cunningham

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Silly humans. Banging on a tub to make a bear dance when we would move the stars to pity.

Julian is bluff and sturdy, royal; he possesses a gracefully muscular, equine beauty so natural it suggests that beauty itself is a fundamental human condition and not a mutation in the general design.

He felt himself entering a moment so real he could only run toward it, shouting.

She will never mention to Leonard that she'd planned on fleeing, even for a few hours. As if he were the one in need of care and comfort--as if he were the one in danger.

Yes, she thinks, this probably how it must feel to be a ghost. It's a little like reading, isn't it—that same sensation of knowing people, settings, situations, without playing any particular part beyond that of the willing observer.

She thinks of how much more space a being occupies in life that it does in death; how much illusion of size is contained in gestures and movements, in breathing. Dead, we are revealed in our true dimensions, and they are surprisingly modest.

That summer when she was eighteen, it seemed anything could happen, anything at all.

He seemed to believe that from such humble, inert elements as flour, shortening, and drab little envelopes of yeast, life itself could be produced.

He's filled with a sense of childish release, the old feeling that because you are sick, all your trials and obligations have been suspended.

It's remarkable, being alive.

There is still that singular perfection, and it's perfect in part because it seemed, at the time, so clearly to promise more.

You want to give him the book of his own life, the book that will locate him, parent him, arm him for the changes.

I was still struggling to invent an alternate version of myself, someone proud and unflinching who could gaze levelly at his father and tell him his last secrets. I wanted him to know me; to have seen me. I'd been waiting until I was settled and fulfilled, so as to present myself in terms of a happiness he might understand.

I liked to think you could change your life without abandoning the simple daily truths.