Michael Cunningham

What she wants to say has to do not only with joy but with the penetrating, constant fear that is joy's other half. ↗

— Michael Cunningham

#joy #love #love

I see myself..in those pages as she goes back and forth, enjoying simply enjoying the beauties of the moments then chastising herself for having ‘no edge’ being simple and worse, harmless. ↗

— Michael Cunningham

#woman #beauty

We’d hoped for love of a different kind, love that knew and forgave our human frailty but did not miniaturize our grander ideas of ourselves. ↗

— Michael Cunningham

#love

Constantine, eight years old, was working in his father's garden and thinking about his own garden, a square of powdered granite he had staked out and combed into rows at the top of his family's land. ↗

— Michael Cunningham

#family

There’s just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we’ve ever imagined. ↗

— Michael Cunningham

#imagination

Venture too far for love... and you renounce citizenship in the country you've made for yourself. You end up just sailing from port to port. ↗

— Michael Cunningham

#love

Zoe loved Trancas's mother. She respected her exhausted and ironic hope for rebirth. ↗

— Michael Cunningham

#love

You grow weary of being treated as the enemy simply because you are not young anymore; because you dress unexceptionally. ↗

— Michael Cunningham

#age

This love of theirs, with its reassuring domesticity and its easy silences, its permanence, has yoked Sally directly to the machinery of mortality itself. Now there is a loss beyond imagining. ↗

— Michael Cunningham

#mortality #imagination

I know, speaking for myself, no matter what I'm able to do, no matter what book comes out and ends up on paper, I always had something bigger and grander in my head. ↗

— Michael Cunningham

#always #bigger #book #comes #ends