Frasi di Amy Hempel

“E penso a quel detto che ripetono sempre tutti: "la vita è dura… e poi muori". A dire il vero, non è affatto così. Questo lo dicono loro. La vita è dura: su questo hanno ragione. Ma quei giorni che dovrebbero essere la parte peggiore? Su questo si sbagliano. E' la tua vita, il resto della tua vita, la parte peggiore.”

“Ho esagerato ancora prima di cominciare, perché è vero: niente è mai grave quanto potrebbe essere.”

“Alcuni di noi soffrono in silenzio di un male rumoroso. E questo è quanto ho da dire sulla paura.”

“Mi immaginavo noi due che cuocevamo le mele per Natale, quegli stupidi quadretti romantici alla Currier e Ives… pensavo per tutto il tempo: A volte quello che abbiamo passa per amore, quando invece avrei dovuto pensare: L'amore passa.”

“We can only die in the future, I thought; right now we are always alive.”

“I meet a person, and in my mind I'm saying three minutes; I give you three minutes to show me the spark.”

“Just once in my life--oh, when have I ever wanted anything just once in my life?”

“Just because you have stopped sinking doesn't mean you're not still underwater.”

“Dreams: the place most of us get what we need.”

“if it's true your life flashes past your eyes before you die, then it is also the truth that your life rushes forth when you are ready to start to truly be alive.”

“I get rational when I panic.”

“I exaggerated even before I began to exaggerate, because it's true — nothing is ever quite as bad as it could be.”

“I thought, my love is so good, why isn't it calling the same thing back.”

“The other day I was playing Scrabble. I saw that I could close the space in D-E- -Y. I had an N and an F. Which do you think I chose? What was the word I made?”

“I moved through the days like a severed head that finishes a sentence.”

“There's no such thing as luck. Luck is where preparation meets opportunity.”

“It is possible to imagine a person so entirely that the image resists attempts to dislodge it.”

“I had my own bed. I slept in it alone, except for those times when we needed—not sex—but sex was how we got there.”

“I would like to go for a ride with you, have you take me to stand before a river in the dark where hundreds of lightning bugs blink this code in sequence: right here, nowhere else! Right now, never again!”

“Since his mother died I have seen him steam a cucumber thinking it was zucchini. That's the kind of thing that turns my heart right over.”

“Maybe this is not a come-down-from-the-ledge story. But I tell it with the thought that the woman on the ledge will ask herself a question, the question that occurred to that man in Bogota. He wondered how we know that what happens to us isn't good?”

“I know that homes burn and that you should think what to save before they start to. Not because, in the heat of it, everything looks as valuable as everything else. But, because nothing looks worth the bother, not even your life.”

“He wondered how we know that what happens to us isn't good.”

“I think of the chimp, the one with the talking hands. In the course of the experiment, that chimp had a baby. Imagine how her trainers must have thrilled when the mother, without prompting, began to sign her newborn. Baby, drink milk. Baby, play ball. And when the baby died, the mother stood over the body, her wrinkled hands moving with animal grace, forming again and again the words: Baby, come hug, Baby come hug, fluent now in the language of grief.”

“She introduces me to a nurse as the Best Friend. The impersonal article is more intimate. It tells me that they are intimate, the nurse and my friend. 'I was telling her we used to drink Canada Dry ginger ale and pretend were were in Canada' 'That's how dumb we were,' I say. 'You could be sisters,' the nurse says. So how come, I'll bet they are wondering, it took me so long to get to such a glorious place? But do they ask? They do not ask. Two months, and how long is the drive? The best I can explain it is this - I have a friend who worked one summer in a mortuary. He used to tell me stories. The one that really got to me was not the gritiest, but it's the one that did. A man wrecked his car on 101 going south. He did not lose consciousness. But his arm was taken down to the bone - and when he looked at it - it scared him to death. I mean, he died. So I hadn't dared to look any closer. But now I'm doing it - and hoping that I will live through it.”

“When my mother died, my father's early widowhood gave him social cachet he would not have had if they had divorced. He was a bigger catch for the sorrow attached.”

“Then the children went to bed, or at least went upstairs, and the men joined the women for a cigarette on the porch, absently picking ticks engorged like grapes off the sleeping dogs. And when the men kissed the women good night, and their weekend whiskers scratched the women's cheeks, the women did not think shave, they thought stay.”