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John von Sothen Quotes

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Famous John von Sothen Quotes

“When I scanned the room, I saw five or six swaddled newborns and one miniature 1920s actress. Bibi had round eyes the size of saucers, chalky white skin, and dainty fingers that seemed already capable of needlepoint.”

Children France Fatherhood Babies

Book:Monsieur Mediocre: One American Learns the High Art of Being Everyday French

Source: Monsieur Mediocre: One American Learns the High Art of Being Everyday French

“I realize now, the life  of an étranger is much like being the only child of older parents who hold tons of cocktail parties. You’re embarrassed for being there and it’s obvious you stand out. You’re treated (often) like a child. You don’t know the formal codes and you’re learning on the fly. Since you assume people are feigning interest in you, you pick up tics and quick-witted dodges to make yourself more endearing or to better hide your deficiencies. And in the end, you go to your room exhausted, not really sure if you had a good time, not really sure why you were there in the first place, but content nonetheless.”

Parents Cocktails Learning Language

Book:Monsieur Mediocre: One American Learns the High Art of Being Everyday French

Source: Monsieur Mediocre: One American Learns the High Art of Being Everyday French

“And soon a cold realization hit me: The time for giving up hope and  letting go was now. It would be my parting gift to her. And as I cried  into Mom’s ear and held her hand, and told her it was okay to let go, that I’d be fine, I felt her chest rise one last time. There was no long  continuous beep like you see in the movies. Just a deafening silence  and my echo of good-bye skipping down the side of her ear like a coin  down a deep well.”

Death Parents Mourning Saying Goodbye

Book:Monsieur Mediocre: One American Learns the High Art of Being Everyday French

Source: Monsieur Mediocre: One American Learns the High Art of Being Everyday French

“Mom’s approach to cuisine came from her art school days, inspiration hitting her on the spot. The ingredients she chose were paints you’d throw at a canvas, each chosen for its color and texture rather than its taste. If your fava beans didn’t click with the polenta? All you had to do was toss in a kilo of shrimp and the pink would bring out the dull off-white.”

Humor Mother Paint Cooking Class

Book:Monsieur Mediocre: One American Learns the High Art of Being Everyday French

Source: Monsieur Mediocre: One American Learns the High Art of Being Everyday French