My family suffered. My hair turned up in every corner, every drawer, every meal. Even in the rice puddings Tessie made, covering each little bowl with wax paper before putting it away in the fridge--even into these prophylactically secure desserts my hair found its way! Jet black hairs wound themselves around bars of soap. They lay pressed like flower stems between the pages of books. They turned up in eyeglass cases, birthday cards, once--I swear--inside an egg Tessie had just cracked. The next-door neighbor's cat coughed up a hairball one day and the hair was not the cat's.
Jeffrey EugenidesThe daily act of writing remains as demanding and maddening as it was before, and the pleasure you get from writing - rare but profound - remains at the true heart of the enterprise. On their best days, writers all over the world are winning Pulitzers, all alone in their studios, with no one watching.
Jeffrey EugenidesNow all the mute objects of my life seem to tell my story, to stretch back in time, if I look closely enough.
Jeffrey EugenidesWhere else would she feel more comfortable than in this subterranean realm where people wrote down what they couldn't say, where they gave voice to their most shameful longings and knowledge?
Jeffrey EugenidesThey had killed themselves over our dying forests, over manatees maimed by propellers as they surfaced to drink from garden hoses; they had killed themselves at the sight of used tires stacked higher than the pyramids; they had killed themselves over the failure to find a love none of us could ever be. In the end, the tortures tearing the Lisbon girls pointed to a simple reasoned refusal to accept the world as it was handed down to them, so full of flaws.
Jeffrey Eugenidesgirls forbidden to dance would only attract husbands with bad complexions and sunken chests.
Jeffrey EugenidesLuxโs frequent forged excuses from phys. Ed. She always used the same method, faking the rigid tโs and bโs of her motherโs signature and then, to distinguish her own handwriting, penning her signature, Lux Lisbon, below, the two beseeching Lโs reaching out for each other over the ditch of the u and barbed-wire x.
Jeffrey Eugenides