Wednesday, September 3, 2008

a froth that resembled love

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Actually we did not have the feelings we said we had until we spoke them—at least I didn’t; to phrase them was to invent them and own them. We whipped our strangeness and newness into a froth that resembled love, and we dared not play too long with it, talk too much of it, or it would flatten and fizzle away.


- Philip Roth, Goodbye, Columbus, 1957

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Frothy like a mad dog's mouth with rabies? :) Arf!

kayni said...

It's too early in the morning here. I was thinking more of a hot, frothy latte.

 
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