About Philip Roth: Philip Milton Roth is an American novelist.
You tasted it. Isn't that enough? Of what do you ever get more than a taste? That's all we're given in life, that's all we're given of life. A taste. There is no more.
The only obsession everyone wants: 'love.' People think that in falling in love they make themselves whole? The Platonic union of souls? I think otherwise. I think you're whole before you begin. And the love fractures you. You're whole, and then you'...
These girls with old gents don't do it despite the age—they're drawn to the age, they do it for the age. Why? In Consuela's case, because the vast difference in age gives her permission to submit, I think. My age and my status give her, rationally,...
He stripped to his trunks, then dove into the pool. We all watched as he broke the surface and climbed from the water, his muscles slick and wet, his green eyes glowing in the half light of the glass ceiling. I heard Natalie and Sara both sigh, and H...
Let Ian laugh. Let him believe pain will ruin me. I know better. I've already been ruined once, and I know how to rise from the ashes. I know how to find my broken pieces.
And for me, it means honoring those who've loved me and sacrificed for me by choosing to be the kind of warrior who delivers justice even when it threatens to hurt me.
Maybe that's what love is. Giving others the power to hurt you and trusting that they'll use it to heal you instead.
Tears aren't for the people we've lost. They're for us. So we can remember, and celebrate, and miss them, and feel human.
Sylph and Jodi return to my side, each carrying a cloth sack full of chickweed. I wrap my arm around Sylph's waist and give her a quick squeeze. "Lesson's over for today. I have something to discuss with Logan." "Sounds serious." Jodi wiggles her bro...
I reach up and pat them both on the head. "Poor things. If you had a boy that looked like Logan, you'd be kissing him every chance you had, too.
Damn it, woman, stop offering to kill me!
Lo malo de la vida es que no sabes realmente si es un proceso descendente, no sabes en absoluto de qué se trata.
Come se nel cuore della natura di uno scrittore ci fosse la purezza. Il cielo aiuti un simile scrittore! Come se Joyce non avesse annusato oscenamente le mutande di Nora. Come se nell’anima di Dostoevskij non avesse mai bisbigliato Svidrigailov. Ne...
For discipline is imposed not just on oneself but on those in one's orbit.
... and I experienced the bitter helplessness of a taunted old man dying to be whole again.
True, he had chosen to live alone, but not unbearably alone. The worst of being unbearably alone was that you had to bear it - either that or you were sunk. You had to work hard to prevent your mind from sabotaging you by its looking hungrily back at...
How much time could you spend staring out the ocean, even if it was the ocean you'd loved since you were a boy?
Llega un momento, como me llegó a mí hace unos meses, en que se halla uno en tal estado de desamparo y confusión, que no logra comprender lo que otrora resultaba obvio: por qué hago lo que hago, por qué vivo donde vivo, por qué comparto mi vida...
In my childhood I led the life of a sage, when I grew up I started climbing trees
I turn sentences around. That’s my life. I write a sentence and then I turn it around. Then I look at it and I turn it around again. Then I have lunch. Then I come back in and write another sentence. Then I have tea and turn the new sentence around...
Old age isn't a battle; old age is a massacre.
