Mary-Louise Parker

I don’t know if you feel conflict when you hear the phrase “new reality,” or if it makes you want to throw in the towel. When you realize that the only thing to be counted on is the shifting and reestablishing of proximity, do you ever feel like, why did I bother searching in the first place? We have to rewrite ourselves again and draw all new maps.

Thank you, NASA, for keeping watch and realizing that our universe will never be anything but light-years new. I want to understand that, and I am so comforted by the fact that I can't. It only proves that some things won't allow themselves to be understood. They aren't for us to know and there's rapture in that, don't you think? Are you happy there, with your eyes glued to the heavens? You know so much, like why the ocean doesn't fall out of the sky, and that there is no upside down. There is no up.

be careful of thinking about people as “kinds of people”?

I don’t believe in endings, happy or sad, so my relationships with you continue to this day. They are the kind of relationships you have with a pair of skis you know you’ll never have to strap to yourself again. Maybe you never really liked skiing, but enjoyed being a person who could say, “Looks like I’ll be hitting the slopes this weekend!” So you kept on even though it cost too much to get down a hill. Gave you windburn. I see nothing weird about keeping those skis in the basement. They offer a little nostalgia for crappier times. More importantly, they serve as a reminder that I no longer have to ski.

You were a living reminder of what I always professed to believe, that you never know what happened to someone that day, so try to cut some slack, but being bound by my own ropes I was unable to give you that.

Thank you for giving me your arm and those four hours that I now understand you did not have an endless supply of.

I can’t take credit for more than remembering to point to you when I do something right and for continuing to put one foot in front of the other when I lose heart.

I wrote about us while you were away in a notebook that eventually saw the end of us, but the last I wrote about that time was in ink; it was a hurried, angry scrawl reading: Time, that cold bastard, with its nearlys and untils. I think, what a shame. Time should weep for having spent me without you.

It’s because of you that I can go to any church and take whatever the service has to offer, all of it up for interpretation except kindness.

Most everything you said in the rehearsal room as a director was applicable to life. You said, 'Let go of what happened last time,' and 'Start with what you know' and 'Don't expect a response.

You waved at Soren while I fought to look neutral because I was taken with you and slightly enraged for no reason. Enraged is the wrong word,but I felt like I wanted to kick you in the shins and then make you banana bread. I wanted to key your car and take you out for dim sum. It was admiration,passion and that voice of yours all mushing together and disarming me,making me want to smash something and kiss someone.

To convey in any existing language how I miss you isn’t possible. It would be like blue trying to describe the ocean.

"I'll tell you now before you can speak: strength is a myth. It's not what it is, when it looks like what it is. It's usually what it is when it looks like something else. It takes bravery to admit that you're petrified and keep soldiering on despite it. Oh,and, "easy"? Also a hoax! If it existed it would be sold for the same as you got it for- nothing! Ha!"

this right now, this is the only time I am all here and no part of me needs time travel Right

It's so transparent, how willing we are to dismiss the intelligence of someone who rejects us, as though that renders them incapable of sound judgment.