…I suddenly realized what small towns are. They are places where you grow up with the peculiar-you live next to the strange and the unlikely for so long that everything and everyone become commonplace.
Gender mattered a whole lot less to Shakespeare than it seems to matter to us.
Watch out for people who call themselves religious; make sure you know what they mean–make sure they know what they mean!
But who can distinguish between falling in love and imagining falling in love? Even genuinely falling in love is an act of the imagination.
Anyone can be sentimental about the nativity; any fool can feel like a Christian at Christmas. But Easter is the main event; if you don’t believe in the resurrection, you’re not a believer.”
“If you don’t believe in Easter,
Jenny Fields discovered that you got more respect from shocking other people than you got from trying to live your own life with a little privacy.
Safer than we are.
In a living city, I could never have noticed so much. Living cities don’t hold still.
Dan suggested to Owen and me that we were better off to not involve ourselves with Hester. How true! But how we wanted to be involved in the thrilling real-life sleaziness that we suspected Hester was in the thick-of. We were in a phase, through television and the movies, of living only vicariously. Even faintly sordid silliness excited us if it put us in contact with love.
Of course, everyone is intolerant of something or someone.