The more you love someone, he came to think, the harder it is to tell them. It surprised him that strangers didn't stop each other on the street to say I love you. • I am always sad, I think. Perhaps this signifies that I am not sad at all, because sadness is something lower than your normal disposition, and I am always the same thing. Perhaps I am the only person in the world, then, who never becomes sad. Perhaps I am lucky. • This is love, she thought, isn't it? When you notice someone's absence and hate that absence more than anything? More, even, than you love his presence. • . I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by the midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad. • Jonathan Safran will terribly mess with your emotions and make you feel things you didn't even know you could feel. • #kenyanbibliophile #bookishfeatures #bookstagramfeature #bookstagrammers #bookstagrammersunite #bibliophile #jonathansafran #currentlyreading (at Java House)
