I don't know why, exactly. Well, it was it was during a period of my life where I was having some difficulties dealing with the passage of time, in a traditional sense. And since Mr. Wolff's short story deals partly with the bending of time, well, in memorizing it, or in taking the action of memorizing it, I too was able to bend time, in a way. Or at least... experience... it differently.
Look, any man reads a newspaper knows Dan with a "D" Holden's overdue a little excess - a little indulgence of the senses. Some late-night, low-light intermingling and inter-tangling.
Half of which at this party want to sleep with you. The other half are afraid of you, and half of them still want to sleep with you. It ain't even about luck at this point.
[to Amantha] First your brother shows up at Mr. Gaines' funeral rambling about God knows what, and now here you are acting like... I know you have to live your life. I understand that. I know it's not your fault, the position you're in. But could you go do it somewhere else, please? So that we don't have to think about Hanna and what happened to her that night?
Old enough? For what? To listen to what your parents told you and believe it because they said it was true? Afraid to think for yourself. Scared to look at all the facts. And for what? So you'd never have to admit to yourself that you might be wrong? Could you go do that somewhere else? Please.
[eulogizing Rutherford] Occasionally I would see Mr. Gaines away from the crowd. Catch his eye and understand just how difficult it is for two people to come together in the face of such intoxicating lunacy.
I believe forces brought you out to my establishment in search of a stove for your mama's birthday. Same forces will tell you where to go next if you listen.
[Daniel dreaming] I remember when I was a little girl, my dad took me to the circus, the greatest show on earth. There were clowns and elephants and dancing bears, and a beautiful lady in pink tights flew high above our heads. And as I sat there watching, I had the feeling that something was missing. I don't know what, but when it was all over, I said to myself, "Is that all there is to the circus?"
I'm not ready yet for that final disappointment. For I know just as well as I'm standing here talking to you, when that final moment comes and I'm breathing my last breath, I'll be saying to myself, "Is that all? Is that all there is to dying?"
