One is seduced and battered in turn. The result is presumably wisdom. Wisdom! We are clinging to life like lizards. Why is it so difficult to assemble those things that really matter in life and to dwell among them only? I am referring to certain landscapes, persons, beasts, books, rooms, meteorological conditions, fruits. In fact, I insist on it.A letter is like a poem, it leaps into life and shows very clearly the marks, perhaps I should say thumbprints, of an unwilling or unready composer.
James Salter
Now they are lovers. The first, wild courses are ended. They have founded their domain. A satanic happiness follows.
happiness sin knowing sex
Of them all, it was the true love. Of them all, it was the best. That other sumptuous love which made one drunk, which one longed for, envied, believed in, that was not life. It was what life was seeking; it was a suspension of life. But to be close to a child, for whom one spent everything, whose life was protected and nourished by one's own, to have that child beside one, at peace, was the real, the deepest, the only joy.
joy
They lay silently. She was staring at something across the room. She was making him feel uncomfortable. 'It wouldn't work. It's the attraction of opposites,' he said. We're not opposites.'I don't mean just you and me. Women fall in love when they get to know you. Men are just the opposite. When they finally know you they're ready to leave.
women men relationships
Women fall in love when they get to know you. Men are just the opposite. When they finally know you they're ready to leave
women men
life writing living
Their life is mysterious, it is like a forest; from far off it seems a unity, it can be comprehended, described, but closer it begins to separate, to break into light and shadow, the density blinds one. Within there is no form, only prodigious detail that reaches everywhere: exotic sounds, spills of sunlight, foliage, fallen trees, small beasts that flee at the sound of a twig-snap, insects, silence, flowers. And all of this, dependent, closely woven, all of it is deceiving. There are really two kinds of life. There is, as Viri says, the one people believe you are living, and there is the other. It is this other which causes the trouble, this other we long to see.
people family metaphor trees forest
One alters the past to form the future but there is a real significance to the pattern which finally appears, which resists all further change.
change
France is herself Only in the winter, her naked self, without manners. In the fine weather, all the world can love her.
manners self
A light snow, a snow so faint and small-bodied that it seems nothing more than a manifestation of the cold.
light
The dreams are the skeleton of all reality.
dreams
The myriad past, it enters us and disappears. Except that within it, somewhere, like diamons, exist the fragments that refuse to be consumed. Sifting through, if one dares, and collecting them, one discovers the true design.
design
Solitude. One knows instinctively it has benefits that must be more deeply satisfying than those of other conditions, but still it is difficult.
benefits solitude
As his prick goes into her, he discovers the world. He knows the source of numbers, the path of the stars.
numbers
He nestles himself flat in the meeting of her buttocks. An excruciating douche.
meeting
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