And while some healing does happen, it isn't a healing of redemption or epiphany. It's more like the slow absorption of a bruise. — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
“Young" and "Poor" sounded so promising, the way my mother always told the story. Temporary conditions: poignant "befores" that existed only to contrast with… — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
“What we did not say was that with these hurts an edge was worn down. It happens out of necessity -- it would not… — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
And while some healing does happen, it isn't a healing of redemption or epiphany. It's more like the slow absorption of a bruise. — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
“Not just the beating. The words. 'Boris, you're stubborn, lazy, worthless, you can't do anything right, you're evil' -- at least once I heard… — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
A love story - your own, or anyone else's - is interior, hidden. It can never be accurately reported, only imagined. It is all… — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
“The word "miss" is so wistful. As is the word "wistful," for that matter. They both have sighs embedded in them, that "iss" sound.… — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
“Those moments of knowing are sharp and merciless, but then they fade out, like stars when the sky gets light in the morning. You… — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
“That's how it went between us. We would have a horrible fight, which at the time would feel insurmountable. It was impossible to see… — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
“My feelings-let's hold on to this idea of them as shuffling Victorians, let's make them servants, an entire uniformed household staff- were fresh, raw,… — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
“Or maybe she simply couldn't stay merry. That subversive, candid merriment of hers was enchanting, electric; but it was a social phenomenon. It was… — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
But who is ever able to apply to her own current love affair a word like "similar"? — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
“You are like a nearsighted person who can see the cracks in the bowl when she's wearing glasses -- and so chooses not to… — Joan Wickersham Copy Share Image
