Tag Archives: Michael Cunningham

Just a Thought

I told lies the way Groucho Marx told jokes, piling one atop another in the hope that my simple endurance would throw a certain light of credibility onto the whole. —Michael Cunningham/A Home At The End Of The World

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Just a Thought

Dope miniaturized sex; it reduced the act itself from a noisy obligation to a humorous, rather sweet little fleshly comedy. —Michael Cunningham/A Home At The End Of The World

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Just a Thought

Hope takes on a fragility. Think too hard and it’s gone. —Michael Cunningham/A Home At The End Of The World

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Just a Thought

My mother had caught up with herself. She’d found her beauty. She was always meant to be sixty, even as a girl. —Michael Cunningham/A Home At The End Of The World

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Just a Thought

Like a drug, repetition changes the size of things. —Michael Cunningham/A Home At The End Of The World

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Just a Thought

Even sober I can only imagine a sharp-tongued wit. —Michael Cunningham/A Home At The End Of The World

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Just a Thought

There is a beauty in the world, though it’s harsher than we ever expect it to be. —Michael Cunningham/A Home At The End Of The World

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Just a Thought

Now I better understand why mothers appear so often in stories as saints or monsters. We become monsters of care, inexorable, and if we occasionally lose track of the finer, imperishable points of the soul while ministering to the fragile … Continue reading

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Just a Thought

I’d already learned one lesson about fatherhood – you love your child, in part, because you see her utterly naked. A baby has no subvert life, and by comparison everyone else you know seems cloaked, muffled, and full of sad … Continue reading

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Just a Thought

People who’ve been well cared for can’t imagine the freedom there is in being bad. —Michael Cunningham/A Home At The End Of The World

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