Jonathan Safran Foer Quotes about Morning

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It's so beautiful at this hour. The sun is low, the shadows are long, the air is cold and clean. You won't be awake for another five hours, but I can't help feeling that we're sharing this clear and beautiful morning.

It's so beautiful at this hour. The sun is low, the shadows are long, the air is cold and clean. You won't be awake for another five hours, but I can't help feeling that we're sharing this clear and beautiful morning.

Jonathan Safran Foer

Beautiful, Morning, Air

Jonathan Safran Foer (2013). “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close: A Novel”, p.305, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

We were trying to make our lives easier, trying, with all our rules, to make life effortless. But a friction began to arise between Nothing and Something, in the morning the Nothing vase cast a Something shadow, like the memory of someone you've lost, what can you say about that, at night the Nothing light spilled from the guest room spilled under the Nothing door and stained the Something hallway, there's nothing to say.

Jonathan Safran Foer

Morning, Memories, Night

Jonathan Safran Foer (2013). “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close: A Novel”, p.110, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

In the morning, when the nothing vase casts a something shadow, like the memory of someone you've lost, what can you say about that?

Jonathan Safran Foer

Morning, Memories, Shadow

Jonathan Safran Foer (2013). “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close: A Novel”, p.110, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

In bed that night I invented a special drain that would be underneath every pillow in New York, and would connect to the reservoir. Whenever people cried themselves to sleep, the tears would all go to the same place, and in the morning the weatherman could report if the water level of the Reservoir of Tears had gone up or down, and you could know if New York is in heavy boots.

Jonathan Safran Foer

Morning, New York, Sleep

Jonathan Safran Foer (2013). “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close: A Novel”, p.38, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

Or perhaps a widow found him and took him in: brought him an easy chair, changed his sweater every morning, shaved his face until the hair stopped growing, took him faithfully to bed with her every night, whispered sweet nothings into what was left of his ear, laughed with him over black coffee, cried with him over yellowing pictures, talked greenly about having kids of her own, began to miss him before she became sick, left him everything in her will, thought of only him as she died, always knew he was fiction but believed in him anyway.

Jonathan Safran Foer

Sweet, Morning, Coffee

I got tired, I told him. Not worn out, but worn through. Like one of those wives who wakes up one morning and says I can't bake any more bread.

Jonathan Safran Foer

Morning, Tired, Wife

Jonathan Safran Foer (2013). “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close: A Novel”, p.180, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

Every widow wakes one morning, perhaps after years of pure and unwavering grieving, to realize she slept a good night's sleep, and will be able to eat breakfast, and doesn't hear her husband's ghost all the time, but only some of the time. Her grief is replaced with a useful sadness. Every parent who loses a child finds a way to laugh again. The timbre begins to fade. The edge dulls. The hurt lessens. Every love is carved from loss. Mine was. Yours is. Your great-great-great-grandchildren's will be. But we learn to live in that love.

Jonathan Safran Foer

Good Night, Hurt, Morning

He Wrote, Are you OK? I told him, My eyes are crummy. He wrote, But are you OK? I told him, That's a very complicated question. He wrote, That's a very simple answer. I asked, Are you OK? He wrote, Some mornings I wake up feeling grateful.

Jonathan Safran Foer

Morning, Grateful, Eye

Jonathan Safran Foer (2013). “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close: A Novel”, p.81, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt