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I Quotes

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All I Quotes

“I listen to people talking sometimes, that great river that is language, with all its undercurrents of grammar and nuance, and I wonder how we all learn so quickly to speak it, given that we begin when we are barely old enough to stand upright. I have no memory of finding it hard. Indeed, I have no memory of it at all.”

“I listen to some of you guys out there, hyper-reformed boys, you're concerned if you preach the gospel to the wrong person, the wrong person might get saved. So you don't want to preach it too good, 'well wait a minute, I don't think you should've been getting saved, I'm not sure you're in the group.' What do you mean in the group! If you breath you're in the group! If you have ears to hear you're in the group! And if you choose not to respond it's your own fault, not God's.”

“I listen to the summer symphony outside my window. Truthfully, it's not a symphony at all. There's no tune, no melody, only the same notes over and over. Chirps and tweets and trills and burples. It's as if the insect orchestra is forever tuning its instruments, forever waiting for the maestro to tap his baton and bring them to order. I, for one, hope the maestro never comes. I love the music mess of it.”

“I listen to the things people want out of love these days and they blow my mind. I go to the pub with the boys from the squad and listen while they explain, with minute precision, exactly what shape a woman should be, what bits she should shave how, what acts she should perform on which date and what she should always or never do or say or want; I eavesdrop on women in cafes while they reel off lists of which jobs a man is allowed, which cars, which labels, which flowers and restaurants and gemstones get the stamp of approval, and I want to shout, Are you people out of your tiny minds?”

“I listened as the insects began to hum from the oasis, loud even from the distance we were at. The stars began to wink and blink above us as the last vestiges of sunlight slipped behind the horizon. A desert wolf sent up a howl, its pack answering it with feral glee at the moon’s appearance. It was magical, the coming together of day and night, a complicated dance of light and dark. Small and large, everything seemed to be awake at twilight, praising Nicar for another day—whether rising to enjoy the night, or bedding down to rest.”

“I listened for the voice I knew so well, the one I always heard at the beginning. Good girl, Macy! You're doing great! You know the first steps are the hardest part! They were. Sometimes I felt so out of sync, it was all could do not to quit after a few strides. But I kept on, as I did now. I had to, to get to the next part, this part, where I finally caught up with Wes, my shadow aligning itself with his, an dhe turned to look at me, pushing his hair our of his eyes.”

“I listened impatiently to the wisdom of the O'Neills for about twenty minutes until I could take no more (by this time Steve and Susan had me thumbing through the paperback). I slid the book across the desk at them and said, 'This is so much shit.' That was a mistake because the word 'shit' on the lips of a pastor deeply offended their moral sensibilities. Such was the state of things among us. They took grave exception to the word SHIT, while I was expected to remain noddingly neutral toward their adultery. WELL, SHIT, I thought. Without apologizing, I tried to convince them I was merely 'upset' by the prospects of their separation. Gradually, I achieved the clinical tone that they so admired in the O'Neills and evidently expected in their country parson.”