“You’re speaking volumes, my friend, and tonight we’re doing short poems only.” — André Aciman Copy Share Image
Perhaps we were friends first and lovers second. But then perhaps this is what lovers are. — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“Cor cordium, heart of hearts,” I replied, referring to the moment when a friend had seized Shelley’s heart before the flames had… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“As I sat there working on transcriptions at my round table in the morning, what I would have settled for was not… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“When every Jew and every Arab will have killed each other, there'll still be one Arab and one Jew left and they'll… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I was mistaken—and I don’t think I was—that what we had between us was the total transparency that exists among friends only.… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“Right now you may not want to feel anything. Perhaps you never wished to feel anything. And perhaps it's not with me… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I like doing things for you, will do anything for you, just say the word, I liked you from day one, and… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“Two words from him, and I had seen my pouting apathy change into I’ll play anything for you till you ask me… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“As he drove away, I began to think that what kept us together was perhaps not even our romance with an imaginary… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“Before long, my mother's friend, who, at the last minute, decided to stay for dinner, was asked to sit where I'd sat… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“So what if he saw? Now he knows. What never crossed my mind was that someone else who lived under our roof,… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“Like every experience that marks us for a lifetime, I found myself turned inside out, drawn and quartered. this was the sum… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
Don't all writers have a hidden nerve, call it a secret chamber, something irreducibly theirs, which stirs their prose and makes it tick and… — Andre Aciman Copy Share
“I wanted him to remember the morning on Monet's berm when I'd kissed him not the first but the second time and given him… — André Aciman Copy Share
Rituals are how we step into our private field of dreams, a small Elysium all our own. Rituals are made not just for us,… — Andre Aciman Copy Share
“I desperately wanted to give him something. By contrast, taking seemed so bland, so facile, so mechanical.” — André Aciman Copy Share
Proust is interested in minutiae because life, as he sees it, is seldom ever about things but about our impression of things, not about… — Andre Aciman Copy Share
“Well, since you're not going to do anything with me—can you at least read me a story? I'd settle for that. I wanted him… — André Aciman Copy Share
“This is heaven.” And I wouldn’t hear him say another word for at least an hour. There was nothing I loved more in life… — André Aciman Copy Share
“He loved the sticky taste. What had I done? I told him and pointed to the bruised evidence sitting on my desk. “Let me… — André Aciman Copy Share
“When had they separated us, you and me, Oliver? And why did I know it, and why didn't you?” — André Aciman Copy Share
“As we were swimming back, he asked as though it were an afterthought, “Are you going to hold last night against me?” — André Aciman Copy Share
“To be with you. To be with you, Oliver. With or without my bathing suit. To be with you on my bed. In your… — André Aciman Copy Share
“I thought I could ever want another living soul, gently, softly, and, with the kindness one Jew extends to another, work his way into… — André Aciman Copy Share
“Oliver: But there's the catch: you're still twenty years younger than those gathered around you, which is why I can be twenty-four in a… — André Aciman Copy Share
I cannot write if there is a sense of plenitude. I have to hypothesize that there is a loss. — Andre Aciman Copy Share
