We own the country we grow up in, or we are aliens and invaders.
How can you smile as though your whole life hasn't capsized
The heart is an organ of fire.
He knows that the only way he can accept losing her is if he can continue to hold her or be held by her. If they can somehow nurse each other out of this. Not with a wall.
We all have an old knot in the heart we wish to untie.
Nowadays he doesn't think of his wife, though he knows he can turn around and evoke every move of her, describe any aspect of her, the weigh of her wrist on his heart during the night.
What is interesting and important happens mostly in secret, in places where there is no power.
Do you understand the sadness of geography?
This last night we tear into each other, as if to wound, as if to find the key to everything before morning.
In the morning she found pieces of a birdchopped and scattered by the fanblood sprayed onto the mosquito net, its body leaving paths on the wallslike red snails that drifted down in lumps. She could imagine the featherswhile she had sleptfalling around herlike slow rain.
Seas move away, why not lovers? The harbours of Ephesus, the rivers of Heraclitus disappear and are replaced by estuaries of silt. The wife of Candaules becomes the wife of Gyges. Libraries burn.
She had always wanted words, she loved them; grew up on them. Words gave her clarity, brought reason, shape.
I am not in love with him, I am in love with ghosts. So is he, he's in love with ghosts.
There was a time when I could have slept with his friend Briffa, for instance. Around him the air was always fraught with possibilities.
That's Anil's path. She grows up in Sri Lanka, goes and gets educated abroad, and through fate or chance gets brought back by the Human Rights Commission to investigate war crimes.