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“We didn’t even talk that day. Not a word. There was no acknowledgement between us, but I felt a connection. I was on the other side of the road. I was alone. I thought I was alone. Until I saw her. She had no idea of her impact. She was oblivious. That was the power she had over me. Even then. Seeing her made me question what I was doing, what I wanted, what I desired, what I could do. Not just in the moment. But what I had been doing that lead me to this point, why I was there, out in the sun, my hands dirty and sore. My whole life, I could not remember anyone’s name. Nothing had made a formative impact on me. But right then I thought that might change. If I knew her name, I would remember it. That’s what she did, even before we’d met - she’d changed things. There she was, preoccupied, bent down, oblivious, washing her hands in a puddle on the side of the road. I knew she was the one. I was meant for her. I saw her, and right then, my life began.”

DesireLongingLove At First SightIain ReidHenriettaFoe Hen
Book:Foe
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“Depression is a serious illness. It’s physically painful, debilitating. And you can’t just decide to get over it in the same way you can’t just decide to get over cancer. Sadness is a normal human condition, no different from happiness. You wouldn’t think of happiness as an illness. Sadness and happiness need each other. To exist, each relies on the other.”

HappinessSadnessDepressionMental HealthIllnessMental Illness
Book:I'm Thinking of Ending Things
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“I think what I want is for someone to know me. Really know me. Know me better than anyone else and maybe even me. Isn't that why we commit to another? It's not for sex. if it were for sex, we wouldn't marry one person. We'd just keep finding new partners. We commit for many reasons, I know, but the more I think about it, the more I think long-term relationships are for getting to know someone. I want someone to know me, really know me, almost like that person could get into my head. What would that feel like? To have access, to know what it's like in someone else's head. To rely on someone else, have him rely on you. That's not a biological connection like the one between parents and children. This kind of relationship would be chosen. It would be something cooler, harder to achieve than one built on biology and shared genetics.”

LoveSexFamilyRelationshipCommitmentParentsConnection
Book:I'm Thinking of Ending Things
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“Pretty much all memory is fiction and heavily edited. [...] A memory is its own thing each time it's recalled. It's not absolute. Stories based on actual events often share more with fiction than fact. Both fictions and memories are recalled and retold. They're both forms of stories. Stories are the way we learn. Stories are how we understand each other. But reality happens only once. [...] Every story is made up. Even the real ones. [...] That's the thing. Part of everything will always be forgettable. No matter how good or remarkable it is. It literally has to be. To be.”

TruthPhilosophical
Book:I'm Thinking of Ending Things
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“Why do people stay together?’ she asks a few minutes later. In long term relationships? I ask. ‘In marriages,’ she says. Because they love each other, I say. They’re committed to each other. There’s comfort there, security. ‘No. They stay together because it’s expected, because it’s what they know. They try to make it work, to endure it, and end up living under some kind of spiritual anesthetic. They go on, but they are numb. And the more I think, the more I think there’s nothing worse than to live your life this way. Detached, but abiding. It’s immoral.”

MarriageSpiritual GrowthMoralsRegretsGrowing Apart
Author:Iain Reid
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“I think what I want is for someone to know me. Really know me. Know me better than anyone else and maybe even me. Isn’t that why we commit to another? It’s not for sex. If it were for sex, we wouldn’t marry one person. We’d just keep finding new partners. We commit for many reasons, I know, but the more I think about it, the more I think long-term relationships are for getting to know someone. I want someone to know me, really know me, almost like that person could get into my head. What would that feel like? To have access, to know what it’s like in someone else’s head. To rely on someone else, have him rely on you. That’s not a biological connection like the one between parents and children. This kind of relationship would be chosen. It would be something cooler, harder to achieve than one built on biology and shared genetics. I think that’s it. Maybe that’s how we know when a relationship is real. When someone else previously unconnected to us knows us in a way we never thought or believed possible.”

LoveRelationships
Book:I'm Thinking of Ending Things
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“The idea that we are better off with one person for the rest of our lives is not an innate truth of existence. It's a belief we want to be true. Forfeiting solitude and independence is a much greater sacrifice than most of us realize. Sharing a habitat, a life, is for sure harder than being alone. In fact, coupled living seems virtually impossible, doesn't it? To find another person to spend all your life with, to age with and change with, to see every day, to respond to their moods and needs?”

RelationshipsSolitudeIndependenceExistentialismCouples
Book:I'm Thinking of Ending Things
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“La gente parla della capacità di resistere. Resistere a tutto e a qualunque cosa, non mollare, essere forti. Ma questo si può fare soltanto se non si è soli. È quella la struttura portante su cui si costruisce una vita. La vicinanza con gli altri. Da soli diventa una lotta di mera resistenza. Che cosa possiamo fare quando non ci sono gli altri? Quando abbiamo tentato di funzionare completamente da soli? Cosa facciamo quando siamo sempre soli? Quando non c’è nessun altro, mai?”

SolitudeSolitudine
Author:Iain Reid
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“He’s whispering again. I’m finding it hard to hear, and we’re standing close together. What do you want to ask? ‘If Hen/ was the same as she is now, in every way, but was a bit less physically attractive in one significant way, do you think you would have married her?’ I’m caught off guard by the question, but I don’t want to show that I am, so I don’t hesitate with my answer. Of course, I say. I love Hen. Hen’s my wife. She’ll be with me forever. I’ve always loved he. I’ll always love her. ‘ I know that. I know. I don’t doubt you love her very much. That’s not really what I’m asking, though. Are you sure you would have married her? Committed to her forever? Think about it. Does her appearance not mean anything to you? Is that what you’re saying? That what she looks like is irrelevant?’ It’s such a blonde question. It seems out of line with everything else we talked about. I feel a trickle in sweat slide down my spine. I’m saying, to me, no matter what, she would still be Hen. ‘Would she, though? Would she still be the Hen you fell in love with? What about this: What if she looked exactly as she does right now, but she was a little less intelligent? Would she still be Hen?’ That’s just stupid. It’s a stupid question. Hen is Hen.”

PhilosophyChoicesMarriageCharacterizationChoosing A Lifemate
Book:Foe
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“But isn’t being alone closer to the truest version of ourselves, when we’re not linked to another, not diluted by their presence and judgments? We form relationships with others, friends, family. That’s fine. Those relationships don’t bind the way love does. We can still have lovers, short-term. But only when alone can we focus on ourselves, know ourselves. How can we know ourselves without this solitude?”

LoveRelationships
Book:I'm Thinking of Ending Things
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“I’VE BECOME MORE AWARE OF MYSELF. BECAUSE OF THE SITUATION. NOW THAT I KNOW I’M LEAVING, I SEE THINGS DIFFERENTLY. I’VE BEEN AWARE OF LITTLE THINGS THAT I WOULD HAVE MISSED BEFORE. “LIKE WHAT?” LIKE SEEING THE SUN SHINE OFF THE ROOF OF OUR OLD BARN. I SAW THAT THIS MORNING AND STOOD THERE, LOOKING AT IT. I FOUND IT MOVING. IT WAS BEAUTIFUL—IT REALLY WAS. I DON’T USUALLY THINK ABOUT IF A LANDSCAPE IS BEAUTIFUL OR NOT, BUT I COULDN’T CONTROL THIS FEELING. I SAW IT AND RECOGNIZED THAT IT WAS BEAUTIFUL. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? IT MADE ME SAD. “SAD?” I CAN HEAR HIM TYPING. HE’S TRYING TO DO IT QUIETLY, BUT I CAN HEAR. “WHY?” I DON’T KNOW. I HAVE NO IDEA. “BECAUSE BEAUTY IS FLEETING, MAYBE?” NO, I SAY. IT’S THE OPPOSITE. BEAUTY ISN’T FLEETING. BEAUTY IS ETERNAL. BUT . . . I’M NOT. I’M FLEETING. THAT’S MORE THE POINT. HIS TYPING STOPS ABRUPTLY. “THAT’S QUITE PROFOUND. YOU DO SEEM MORE SELF-AWARE AND INTROSPECTIVE THAN WHEN I FIRST ARRIVED. IT MAKES ME THINK OF BAUdelaire: ‘I CAN BARELY CONCEIVE OF A TYPE OF BEAUTY IN WHICH THERE IS NO MELANCHOLY.’”

Iain Reid
Book:Foe
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