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I Quotes

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All I Quotes

“I looked at them all. 'You can't spend your life up here.'" "The moment I said it I remembered Alan saying tat in a way he HAD spent his life up here, That his memories of the Moon were so bright and vivid that the things he did on Earth seemed grey by comparison. And I thought how completely cosmic it would be if I could fix that for them. If I could make it so that part of them was always up here. So that when they were back on Earth and their dads were yelling and pushing them on, they could just tune out and come back up here, where -- in their brightest memories -- they would always be kids.”

“I looked back at the boy and his father. The man was holding him close now, his arms wrapped tightly around him as if to shield him from the cold. Their laughter echoed down the street–bright and fleeting, and full of something I hadn’t felt in years. I wondered if that boy would grow up to feel the same sting of disappointment I did, if his father would one day become a stranger too.”

“I looked back at the previous 10 years and realized I had spent 10 years trying to convince kids to behave Christianly without actually teaching them Christianity. And that was a pretty serious conviction. You can say, 'Hey kids, be more forgiving because the Bible says so,' or, 'Hey kids, be more kind because the Bible says so!' But that isn't Christianity, it's morality.”

“I looked down at the loaves on the baking stone, which, just as before, carried in their crusts the overwhelming illusion of dark eyes, upturned noses, fissured mouths. Upon closer inspection, these faces were different from the last loaf's. They were disturbing. Their eyes squinted merrily and their mouths curled into ragged, jack-o'-lantern grins. The bread knife was the solution to all my problems. I sawed and sawed and sawed until the faces were no more.”

“I looked expectantly to the window but there were no plates lined up. Instead Scott, the young, tattooed sous chef, passed me a sliver of tomato. The insides were tie-dyed pink and red. "A Marvel-Striped from Blooming Hills Farm," he said, as if I had asked him a question. I cupped it while it dripped. He pinched up flakes of sea salt from a plastic tub and flicked it on the slice. "When they're like this don't fuck with them. Just a little salt." "Wow," I said. And I meant it. I had never thought of a tomato as a fruit----the ones I had known were mostly white in the center and rock hard. But this was so luscious, so tart I thought it victorious. So----some tomatoes tasted like water, and some tasted like summer lightning.”