What night gave Rafael was a formlessness in which everything had a purpose. As if darkness had a hidden musical language.
Michael OndaatjePeople don't write about kids; you have to give them a lot of freedom, and that causes anarchy and that causes farce.
Michael OndaatjeHer life with others no longer interests him. He wants only her stalking beauty, her theatre of expressions. He wants the minute secret reflection between them, the depth of field minimal, their foreignness intimate like two pages of a closed book.
Michael OndaatjeHe walked out of the hospital into the sun, into open air for the first time in months, out of the green-lit rooms that lay like glass in his mind. He stood there breathing everything in, the hurry of everyone. First, he thought, I need shoes with rubber on the bottom. I need gelato.
Michael Ondaatje