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[…] but i believe that things are extremely complicated, and her looking over me was as complicated as anything could ever be. but it was also incredibly simple.

-Jonathan Safran Foer

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[…] But I Believe That Things Are

Jonathan Safran Foer

[…] but i believe that things are extremely complicated, and her looking over me was as complicated as anything could ever be. but it was also incredibly simple.

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    <p style="font-size: 1.2rem; font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 10px;">"[…] but i believe that things are extremely complicated, and her looking over me was as complicated as anything could ever be. but it was also incredibly simple."</p>
    <footer style="font-size: 1rem; font-weight: bold;">— Jonathan Safran Foer</footer>
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Topic

Believe Simple I Believe

More From Jonathan Safran Foer

We all know of course, that we should never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever fiddle around in any way with electrical equipment. never.

I had forgotten this about love: how the simple things- the turn away, the turn towards- could be so complicated, and how the complicated things- the stolen night, the right words- could be so simple.

And she loved a man who was made out of nothing. a few hours without him and right away she’d be missing him with her whole body, sitting in her office surrounded by polyethylene and concrete and thinking of him. and every time she’d boil water for coffee in her ground-floor office, she’d let the steam cover her face, imagining it was him stroking her cheeks, her eyelids and she’d wait for the day to be over, so she could go to her apartment building, climb the flight of stairs, turn the key in the door, and find him waiting for her, naked and still between the sheets of her empty bed.

Her little shoulders drove me mad; i hugged her and hugged her. and she loved it. 'i love love,' she said, closing her eyes. i promised her beautiful love. i gloated over her. our stories were told; we subsided into silence and sweet anticipatory thoughts. it was as simple as that. you could have all your peaches and bettys and marylous and ritas and camilles and inezes in this world; this was my girl and my kind of girlsoul, and i told her that.

All of us--all who knew her--felt so wholesome after we cleaned ourselves on her. we were so beautiful when we stood astride her ugliness. her simplicity decorated us, her guilt sanctified us, her pain made us glow with health, her awkwardness made us think we had a sense of humor. her inarticulateness made us believe we were eloquent. her poverty kept us generous. even her waking dreams we used--to silence our own nightmares.

When i talk to a man, i can always tell what he's thinking by where he is looking. if he is looking at my eyes, he is looking for intelligence. if he is looking at my mouth, he is looking for wisdom. but if he is looking anywhere else except my chest he's looking for another man.

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Oshima's silent for a time as he gazes at the forest, eyes narrowed. birds are flitting from one branch to the next. his hands are clasped behind his head. "i know how you feel," he finally says. "but this is something you have to work out on your own. nobody can help you. that's what love's all about, kafka. you're the one having those wonderful feelings, but you have to go it alone as you wander through the dark. your mind and body have to bear it all. all by yourself.

I would like to sing someone to sleep, to sit beside someone and be there. i would like to rock you and sing softly and go with you to and from sleep. i would like to be the one in the house who knew: the night was cold. and i would like to listen in and listen out into you, into the world, into the woods. the clocks shout to one another striking, and one sees to the bottom of time. and down below one last, strange man walks by and rouses a strange dog. and after that comes silence. i have laid my eyes upon you wide; and they hold you gently and let you go when something stirs in the dark.

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