“Even if you cannot marry, you must have some idea of a wife.

Light Years
James Salter

“I was at Peter and Catherine’s last night. He’s really a marvelous man. Of course they asked about you.” “How are they?” “Well, you know, their life is very curious. Their affection for each other isn’t very great, and yet they’re devoted.” He paused. “I suppose we were something like that.” “Well, everybody is.”

Light Years
James Salter

“Do you live in the city?” she asked. “Yes.” In the city and alone. That was very interesting to her, she said, the idea of living alone. What was it like? “Luxurious,” he said. “You get used to it,” Jivan added. “It depends so much on who you ask, doesn’t it?” she said. “If you don’t have a woman you must have some other passion,” Jivan said.

Light Years
James Salter

“You can marry.” “You know I can’t.”

Light Years
James Salter

“You’re not going to get married, are you?” she said. “Well, of course I think about it.” “It’s not necessary for you. You already have the fruit of marriage.”

Light Years
James Salter

She could never be without him, she had told him that. There were times she hated him because he was free in a way she was not; he had no children, no wife.

Light Years
James Salter

One of the most potent surprises is how my relationship with David didn’t end when we stopped being with each other, or even when I fell in love with someone else. I still think about him nearly every day. I still feel the vibrations of forces that I can’t understand — forces, like love and grief and pain, that sit somewhere beyond the limits of language — and these aren’t just memories of feelings but new ones, always new. Our relationship exists, still, somewhere. This, like everything else, is very painful, and accepting it has brought me a kind of liberation that I didn’t think was possible.

against nature

Rayne-fisher quinn