My head aches, my eyes burn, my arms and legs have given up, and my face in the mirror has a grayish cast. The bed, across the room, calls in its unmistakable lover's croon, Come to me, come, only I… — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share Image
“Yet when we do manage to create ourselves anew, isn’t there always a suspicion that the new identity fits over the old like a… — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share Image
what I love is slowness. Slow people, slow reading, slow traveling, slow eggs, and slow love. Everything good comes slow. — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share Image
The stillness and stasis of bed are the perfect opposite of travel: inertia is what I've come to consider the default mode, existentially and… — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share Image
“Real, she imagined later on, was something else; it had nothing to do with things you could touch. Real was being seen, noticed, acknowledged, and later remembered. Real was people thinking about you when you weren't in the room. If others thought about you, then you must be more than a made-up dream. You need other people to be real,… — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share
I have managed not to finish certain books. With barely a twinge of conscience, I hurl down what bores me or doesn't give what… — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share Image
“But living amid so many words, I overestimated their power and breadth. The world does not turn on words alone; it only seems to… — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share Image
How are we to spend our lives, anyway? That is the real question. We read to seek the answer, and the search itself--the task… — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share Image
“She'd been prepared for him to say he was too old, she must put away that sweet but impractical idea, they would forget all about it and go back to being good friends. She had almost hoped he would say that; it would forestall the complication and entanglement, yet leave her with a grief to harbor, sad but tender, grief… — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share
“How did she do it, I'd always wondered. Dancing with Q., I understood. Once in a while the pain falls asleep on the job,… — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share Image
Like the bodies of dancers or athletes, the minds of readers are genuinely happy and self-possessed only when cavorting around, doing their stretches and… — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share Image
Nothing is as horrendous as imagining the times of happiness from an environment which is that of hell. — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share Image
Leave the dishes unwashed and the demands on your time unanswered. Be ruthless and refuse to do what people ask of you. — Lynne Sharon Schwartz Copy Share Image
