“the place where, as with the berm, one comes to be alone, to dream of others.” — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“Like showing someone your private chapel, your secret haunt, the place where, as with the berm, one comes to be alone, to… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
If I could have him like this in my dreams every night of my life, I'd stake my entire life on dreams… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“We were too close, I thought, I'd never been so close to him except in a dream or when he cupped his… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“This felt special. Like showing someone your private chapel, your secret haunt, the place where, as with the berm, one comes to… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
Rituals are how we step into our private field of dreams, a small Elysium all our own. Rituals are made not just… — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
“From this moment on, I thought, from this moment on—I had, as I’d never before in my life, the distinct feeling of… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“What is life without this? which was why, in the end, it was I, and not he, who blurted out, not once,… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“But this thing that almost never was still beckons, I wanted to tell him. They can never undo it, never unwrite it,… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
Would I still feel this way on leaving the party tonight? Or would I find cunning ways to latch on to minor… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“They can never undo it, never unwrite it, never unlive it, or relive it—it’s just stuck there like a vision of fireflies… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“What is life without this? which was why, in the end, it was I, and not her, who blurted out, not once,… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I always tried to keep him within my field of vision. I never let him drift away from me except when he… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“What I wanted to preserve was the turbulent gasp in his voice which lingered with me for days afterward and told me… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
As we walked, I began to wonder what the opposite of molting was and why, unlike the body, which sheds everything, the… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“You’ll kill me if you stop, you’ll kill me if you stop, because it was also my way of bringing full circle… — 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 Image
“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 Image
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 Image
“I desperately wanted to give him something. By contrast, taking seemed so bland, so facile, so mechanical.” — André Aciman Copy Share Image
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 Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
“When had they separated us, you and me, Oliver? And why did I know it, and why didn't you?” — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
