بریده‌های کتاب a little life

گاهی اوقات فشار اینکه خوشحال و خوشبخت باشی، سنگین و طاقت فرسا به نظر می‌رسید، انگار خوشبختی چیزی‌ست که همه باید بتوانند به آن دست پیدا کنند و هر چیزی که رسیدن به آن را به خطر بیندازد، به نحو معجزه آسایی تقصیر خودت است.

But it was true that for the first time, he was able to comprehend that the people he had grown to trust might someday betray him anyway, and that as disappointing as it might be, it was inevitable as well, and that life would keep propelling him steadily forward, because for everyone who might fail him in some way, there was at least one person who never would

Fear and hatred, fear and hatred: often, it seemed that those were the only two qualities he possessed. Fear of everyone else; hatred of himself.

You asked me once when I knew that he was for me, and I told you that I had always known. But that wasn’t true, and I knew it even as I said it—I said it because it sounded pretty, like something someone might say in a book or a movie, and because we were both feeling so wretched, and helpless, and because I thought if I said it, we both might feel better about the situation before us, the situation that we perhaps had been capable of preventing—perhaps not—but at any rate hadn’t.

ولی اون دیگه هیچ‌وقت خواهش نکرد، هیچ‌وقت التماس نکرد. اون هرگز اعتراضی نکرد یا قولی نداد، هیچ‌وقت گریه نکرد.دیگه انرژیشو نداشت، دیگه باوری هم نداشت به اینکه همه‌چیز درست میشه.

the point of a child is not what you hope he will be accomplished in your name but the pleasure that he will bring you, whatever from it comes in, even if it is a form that is barely recognizable as pleasure at all_and,more important,the pleasure you will be privileged to bring him