Citati iz knjige „A Little Life“ autora Hanya Yanagihara

Ната
Натаje citiralaпре 4 године
you should never paint where you fucked
Ната
Натаje citiralaпре 4 године
They would never have demanded he be like them; they hardly wanted to be themselves.
Inna Livanova
Inna Livanovaje citiralaпре 2 године
Life was scary; it was unknowable. Even Malcolm’s money wouldn’t immunize him completely. Life would happen to him, and he would have to try to answer it, just like the rest of them. They all—Malcolm with his houses, Willem with his girlfriends, JB with his paints, he with his razors—sought comfort, something that was theirs alone, something to hold off the terrifying largeness, the impossibility, of the world, of the relentlessness of its minutes, its hours, its days.
Anna Sorokina
Anna Sorokinaje citiralaпре 3 године
And it wasn’t only Jude and JB who possessed this quality: New York was populated by the ambitious. It was often the only thing that everyone here had in common.
kuatcorp
kuatcorpje citiraoпре 4 године
You understood that proof of your friendship lay in keeping your distance
Leonid Plenkin
Leonid Plenkinje citiraoпре 4 године
“I want to be alone,” he told him.
“I understand,” Willem said. “We’ll be alone together.”
Leonid Plenkin
Leonid Plenkinje citiraoпре 4 године
Not having sex: it was one of the best things about being an adult.
Leonid Plenkin
Leonid Plenkinje citiraoпре 4 године
the only trick of friendship, I think, is to find people who are better than you are—not smarter, not cooler, but kinder, and more generous, and more forgiving—and then to appreciate them for what they can teach you, and to try to listen to them when they tell you something about yourself, no matter how bad—or good—it might be, and to trust them, which is the hardest thing of all. But the best, as well.”
Leonid Plenkin
Leonid Plenkinje citiraoпре 4 године
I know what I want to do. I want to know what you want to do.
Dmitry Lyagin
Dmitry Lyaginje citiraoпре 4 године
Lately, he had been wondering if codependence was such a bad thing. He took pleasure in his friendships, and it didn’t hurt anyone, so who cared if it was codependent or not? And anyway, how was a friendship any more codependent than a relationship? Why was it admirable when you were twenty-seven but creepy when you were thirty-seven? Why wasn’t friendship as good as a relationship? Why wasn’t it even better? It was two people who remained together, day after day, bound not by sex or physical attraction or money or children or property, but only by the shared agreement to keep going, the mutual dedication to a union that could never be codified. Friendship was witnessing another’s slow drip of miseries, and long bouts of boredom, and occasional triumphs. It was feeling honored by the privilege of getting to be present for another person’s most dismal moments, and knowing that you could be dismal around him in return.
Zhenya Shabynina
Zhenya Shabyninaje citiralaпре 4 године
He bought magazines meant for women with articles about being better in bed, and studied them carefully.
myriamroden
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I am guilty of many things when it comes to him. But sometimes, illogically, I feel guiltiest for this.
myriamroden
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opened the van door, I invited him inside. And while I didn’t drive off the road, I instead drove him somewhere bleak and cold and colorless, and left him standing there, where, back where I had collected him, the landscape shimmered with color, the sky fizzed with fireworks, and he stood openmouthed in wonder.
myriamroden
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away game when one of their vans breaks down. So they ask the mother of one of the players if they can borrow her van to transport them. Sure, she says, but I’m not going to drive. And so she asks the assistant coach to drive the team for her. But then, as they’re driving along, something horrible happens: the van skids off the road and flips over; everyone inside dies.

There is no criminal case here. The road was slippery, the driver wasn’t intoxicated. It was an accident. But then the parents of the team, the mothers and fathers of the dead players, sue the owner of the van. It was her van, they argue, but more important, it was she who appointed the driver of her van. He was only her agent, and therefore, it is she who bears the responsibility. So: What happens? Should the plaintiffs win their suit?
myriamroden
myriamrodenje citiraoјуче
people who have been lucky enough to have lived a life defined more by certainties than by ambiguities.
myriamroden
myriamrodenje citiraoјуче
logic is their own; the second fails because logic is all they own.
myriamroden
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And in that same way, law school breaks a mind down. Novelists, poets, and artists don’t often do well in law school (unless they are bad novelists, poets, and artists), but neither, necessarily, do mathematicians, logicians, and scientists. The first group fails because their
myriamroden
myriamrodenje citiraoјуче
The world, overnight, rearranges itself into an obstacle course of terrors.
myriamroden
myriamrodenje citiraoјуче
wasn’t a cruel person, Liesl, and I don’t mean to give the impression that she was without kindness, without gentleness, because she had both in her, was capable of both.
myriamroden
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staccato, digestible sentences. Then she was silent. “I’m on a pill whe
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