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Quote by Nicole Krauss

“It was an animal love, like an animal that has been living in an incomprehensible world until one day it encounters another of its kind and understands that it has been applying its comprehension in the wrong place all along.”

Quote by Nicole Krauss

Work

To Be a Man: Stories

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Author

Nicole Krauss
Nicole Krauss

Nicole Krauss is an American author born on August 18, 1974. Her works are known for their unique narrative style and profound insights into human emotions. more

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“I was a homeless person with a home. The sense of security, comfort, belongingness and relief that is associated with the place was missing. The pain seeped in my being as involuntarily as the act of breathing”

“My friend.. Today I missed you. I wanted to tell you what's going on with me, And hear what's going on with you, but something destroyed my phone And I lost my loved ones' phone numbers... I wonder.. Did something destroy your phone too? Is that why you lost my phone number as well? My friend.. Today I made a kite with some of the kids here. I attached a message to it, hoping it would reach you. And as soon as it flew freely in our sky, I let go of the thread and watched it flew farther and farther.. hoping it wouldn't lose its way.. Perhaps it's still remembers our city that has became unfamiliar! My friend.. It seems that my kite is lost just like the pigeons and the phone numbers are lost, and the way is lost, only a few dreams remain, or even less than a few... My friend.. I still watch the sky, and watch the children's kites, perhaps one of them carries a message from you to me... letters in wartime”

“This morning, my grandmother stretched out her hand to feel the air, then raised her head to the sky and said, “It's fig harvest time.” She sat silently for the rest of the day. My friend, it seems that we all yearn for even the smallest details and simplest things that were once a part of our lives. Like the fig trees and the day of their harvest. Do you remember the day my mother made me cut a large pot filled with figs to make jam for us, and you came to help me? Do you remember the secrets and stories we shared over that pot of figs? And do you remember helping my grandmother knead the cookie dough afterwards? The taste of laughter, the smell of the house, and the warmth of our hearts as we dipped those cookies in the fig jam. My friend, will we ever make jam and cookies together again? Or will we continue to long for our memories, loved ones, friends, and fig trees? letters in wartime”