Audrey Niffenegger Quotes

Don't you think it's better to be extremely happy for a short while, even if you lose it, than to be just okay for your whole life?

We laugh and laugh, and nothing can ever be sad, no one can be lost, or dead, or far away: right now we are here, and nothing can mar our perfection, or steal the joy of this perfect moment.

I go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. I take walks. I work until I'm tired. I watch the wind play with the trash that's been under the snow all winter. Everything seems simple until you think about it. Why is love intensified by abscence?

Love the world and yourself in it, move through it as though it offers no resistance, as though the world is your natural element.

There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.

Listen, sometimes when you finally find out, you realize that you were much better off not knowing.

There are several ways to react to being lost. One is to panic: this was usually Valentina's first impulse. Another is to abandon yourself to lostness, to allow the fact that you've misplaced yourself to change the way you experience the world.

It's hard being left behind. (...) It's hard to be the one who stays.

Chaos is more freedom; in fact, total freedom. But no meaning. I want to be free to act, and I also want my actions to mean something.

Sleep is my lover now, my forgetting, my opiate, my oblivion.

that's what I love you for: your inability to perceive all my hideous flaws

I won't ever leave you, even though you're always leaving me.

Why is love intensified by absence?

Clare, I want to tell you, again, I love you. Our love has been the thread through the labyrinth, the net under the high-wire walker, the only real thing in this strange life of mine that I could ever trust. Tonight I feel that my love for you has more density in this world than I do, myself: as though it could linger on after me and surround you, keep you, hold you.

…she smiles in an exhausted but warm sort of way, as though she is a brilliant sun in some other galaxy

I love. I have loved. I will love.

I'm living under water. Everything seems slow and far away. I know there's a world up there, a sunlit quick world where time runs like dry sand through an hourglass, but down here, where I am, air and sound and time and feeling are thick and dense.

It’s dark now and I am very tired. I love you, always. Time is nothing.

The pain has left but I know that it has not gone far, that it is sulking somewhere in a corner or under the bed and it will jump out when I least expect it.

I'm sorry. I didn't know you were coming or I'd have cleaned up a little more. My life, I mean, not just the apartment.

The choices we’re working with here are a block universe, where past, present and future all coexist simultaneously and everything has already happened; chaos, where anything can happen and nothing can be predicted because we can’t know all the variables; and a Christian universe in which God made everything and it’s all here for a purpose but we have free will anyway.

we both smile and we are conspirators.

I place my hands over her ears and tip her head back, and kiss her, and try to put my heart into hers, for safekeeping, in case I lose it again.

He thanked her and left the house in the mood of a shipwrecked man who has allowed the rescue ship to pass him by.

The compelling thing about making art - or making anything, I suppose - is the moment when the vaporous, insubstantial idea becomes a solid there, a thing, a substance in a world of substances.