Bookmarker is a personal project by @dellsystem to help with retaining reading material. Source on GitHub.

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2 years, 6 months ago

she just had not known she was harness

One July morning, cold stirred Lou. The tide had withdrawn to the Azores. Wind through the windows smelled of mullions’ dust. She knew Maytree had loved her. The perception was correct; only her inference was false. What should Maytree have done? Stayed in harness? She just had not known she was ha…

—p.85 The Maytrees by Annie Dillard
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2 years, 6 months ago

something beyond food people need

TWO YEARS LATER THEY were dancing in the kitchen to “Lady Be Good.” Maytree turned down the radio and ran his notion by Lou. It is an unnameable boon love hauls down, that people rightly prize as the best of life, and for which it fusses over weddings. Not only will a cave-dwelling pair cull food a…

—p.45 by Annie Dillard
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2 years, 6 months ago

time to read everything again. project/secret-life topic/love

AFTER THEY MARRIED SHE learned to feel their skin as double-sided. They felt a pause. Theirs was too much feeling to push through the crack that led down to the dim world of time and stuff. That world was gone. They held themselves alert only in those few million cells where they touched. She learn…

—p.31 by Annie Dillard
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2 years, 6 months ago

would she rather have his love, or hers for him?

She asked herself: Would she rather have his love, or hers for him? Would she rather have Primo himself, guaranteed to love her and only her forever, or would she rather have her love for Primo Dial forever, intact and untainted come who may? Astounded, she realized she would choose her love over h…

—p.19 by Annie Dillard
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2 years, 6 months ago

they were more like bumper cars than people

When Lou was a girl, her breasts grew both calamitously early and big. Boys came at her, shouting to one another. Alone or together, running, they competed to touch a breast, capture the flag. Had those boys put her off males forever? Throughout boarding school she thought all males younger than he…

—p.18 by Annie Dillard