Sara Gruen

“Sometimes I think if I had to choose between an ear of corn or making love to a woman, I'd choose the corn.”

“Afterward she lies nestled against me, her hair tickling my face. I stroke her lightly, memorizing her body. I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin.”

“How is it that everyone on this train has so much alcohol?""We always head to Canada at the beginning of the season," she says taking her seat again. "Their laws are much more civilized. Cheers.”

“She looks at her watch - a real one, with arms. Those digital ones came and went, thank God. When will people learn that just because you can make something doesn't mean you should?”

“Then I lie down on the horse blanket and drift into a dream about Marlena that will probably cost me my soul.”

“Afterward, I curl around her. We lie in silence until darkness falls, and then, haltingly, she begins to talk...She speaks without need or even room for response, so I simply hold her and stroke her hair. She talks of the pain, grief, and horror of the past four years; of learning to cope with being the wife of a man so violent and unpredictable his touch made her skin crawl and of thinking, until quite recently, that she'd finally managed to do that. And then, finally, of how my appearance had forced her to realize she hadn't learned to cope at all.”

“And don’t miss Frank Otto, the world’s most tattooed man! Held hostage in the darkest jungles of Borneo and tried for a crime he didn’t commit, and his punishment? Well, folks, his punishment is written all over his body in permanent ink!”

“... a gaggle of old ladies is glued to the window at the end of the hall like children or jailbirds. They're spidery and frail, their hair as fine as mist. Most of them are a good decade younger than me, and this astounds me. Even as your body betrays you, your mind denies it.----There are five of them now, white headed old things huddled together and pointing crooked fingers at the glass.”

“Life is the most spectacular show on earth ♥”

“With a secret like that, at some point the secret itself becomes irrelevant. The fact that you kept it does not.”

“Why the hell shouldn't I run away with the circus?”

“Jacob: I've never seen so much manure.Wade: Baggage stock horses. They pack'em in 27 a car.Jacob: how do you stand the smell?Wade: what smell?”

“I had my whole life planned.. I knew exactly where it was taking me..”

“Although there are times I'd give anything to have her back, I'm glad she went first. Losing her was like being cleft down the middle. It was the moment it all ended for me, and I wouldn't have wanted her to go through that.”

“We traveled for two weeks with a pickled hippo.”

“- Dime, ¿de verdad crees que éste es el espectáculo más deslumbrante del mundo?-¿Eh?-No. Ni por asomo. Probablemente ni siquiera es el número cincuenta de la lista de los espectáculos más deslumbrantes del mundo. Tenemos un tercio de la capacidad del circo Ringling. Ya has descubierto que Marlena no pertenece a la realeza rumana. ¿Y Lucinda? De 400 kilos nada, 200 como mucho. ¿Y tú crees que a Frank Otto le tatuaron unos furiosos cazadores de cabezas de Borneo? No fastidies. Antes era un montador del Escuadrón Volador. Se pasó 9 años trabajándose la tinta. ¿Y sabes lo que hizo Tío Al cuando murió el hipopótamo? Cambio el agua por formol y siguió exhibiéndolo. Estuvimos dos semanas viajando con un hipopótamo en conserva. Todo es ilusión, Jacob, y no tienen nada de malo. Es lo que la gente quiere que le demos. Es lo que espera de nosotros.”

“I scan the room. Catherine is writing quickly, her light brown hair falling over her face. She is left-handed, and because she writes in pencil her left arm is silver from wrist to elbow.”

“i meant what i said, and i said what i meant.”

“He only had the imperfect medium of words.”

“At this moment, the story in his head was perfect. He also knew from experience that it would degenerate the second he started typing, because such was the nature of writing.”

“The business of a newspaper is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable" was one of the aphorisms his boss liked to quote.”

“What else do I have to offer? Nothing happens to me anymore. That’s the reality of getting old, and I guess that’s really the crux of the matter. I’m not ready to be old yet.”

“Sometimes when you get older — and I’m not talking about you, I’m talking generally, because everyone ages differently — things you think on and wish on start to seem real. And then you believe them, and before you know it they’re part of your history, and if someone challenges you on them and says they’re not true — why, then you get offended because you can’t remember the first part. All you know is that you’ve been called a liar.”

“When will people learn that just because you can make something doesn’t mean you should?”

“I open the orangutan's door and set a pan of fruits, vegetables, and nuts on the floor. As I close it, her long arm reaches through the bars. She points at an orange in another pan. 'That? You want that?' She continues to point, blinking at me with close-set eyes. Her features are concave, her face a wide platter fringed with red hair. She's the most outrageous and beautiful thing I've ever seen. 'Here,' I say, handing her the orange. 'You can have it.' She takes it and sets it on the floor. Then she reaches out again. After several seconds of serious misgivings, I hold out my hand. She wraps her long fingers around it, then lets go. She sits on her haunches and peels her orange. I stare in amazement. She was thanking me.”

“In your thirties something strange starts to happen. It’s a mere hiccup at first, an instant of hesitation. How old are you? Oh, I’m — you start confidently, but then you stop. You were going to say thirty-three, but you’re not. You’re thirty-five. And then you’re bothered, because you wonder if this is the beginning of the end. It is, of course, but it’s decades before you admit it.”

“When I first submerged my feet into frigid water, they hurt so badly I yanked them out again. I persisted, dunking them for longer and longer periods, until the cold finally blistered.”

“Is where you're from the place you're leaving or where you have roots?”

“I reach for the napkin, and as I do I catch sight of my hands. They are knobby and crooked, thin-skinned, and—like my ruined face—covered with liver spots.My face. I push the porridge aside and open my vanity mirror. I should know better by now, but somehow I still expect to see myself. Instead, I find an Appalachian apple doll, withered and spotty, with dewlaps and bags and long floppy ears. A few strands of white hair spring absurdly from its spotted skull.I try to brush the hairs flat with my hand and freeze at the sight of my old hand on my old head. I lean close and open my eyes very wide, trying to see beyond the sagging flesh.It's no good. Even when I look straight into the milky blue eyes, I can't find myself anymore. When did I stop being me?”

“My platitudes don't hold their interest and I can hardly blame them for that. My real stories are all out of date. So what if I can speak firsthand about the Spanish flu, the advent of the automobile, world wars, cold wars, guerrilla wars, and Sputnik — that's all ancient history now. But what else do I have to offer? Nothing happens to me anymore. That's the reality of getting old, and I guess that's really the crux of the matter. I'm not ready to be old yet.”

“Bathing is even more embarrassing, because I have to strip down to my birthday suit in front of a nurse. Now, there are some things that never die, so even though I'm in my nineties my sap sometimes rises. I can't help it. They always pretend not to notice. They're trained that way, I suppose, although pretending not to notice is almost worse than noticing. It means they consider me nothing more than a harmless old man sporting a harmless old penis that still gets uppity once in a while. Although if one of them took it seriously and tried to do something about it, the shock would probably kill me.”

“I look after those who look after me." He smacks his lips, stares at me, and adds, "I also look after those who don't." - Sara Gruen (Water for Elephants)”

“I used to think I preferred getting old to the alternative, but now I'm not sure. Sometimes the momotony of bingo and sing-alongs and ancient dusty people parked in teh hallway in wheelchairs makes me long for death. Particularly when I rememver that I'm one of the ancient dusty people, filed away like some worthless tchotchke.”

“I just can't. I'm married. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it.”

“When two people are meant to be together, they will be together. It's fate.”

“Now, go shovel some shit.”

“The whole thing's illusion, [Jacob], and there's nothing wrong with that. It's what people want from us. It's what they expect.”

“...if you expect people to try to do things your way, you're going to have to give some hints as to what that way is.”

“When she comes to retrieve me [in the nursing home], after the tan-colored pudding with edible oil topping has sat for a while and been removed...”

“Keeping up the appearance of having all your marbles is hard work, but important.”

“90/93-year-old Jacob wonders as he gazes at his aged reflection, 'When did I stop being me?”

“...poking a lump of red Jello that jiggles outrageously, like a breast I once knew. ”

“Sometimes the monotony of bingo and sing alongs, ancient dusty people parked in the hallway in wheelchairs makes me long for death, particularly when -- remember that I'm one of the ancient dusty people, filed away like some worthless chotski. ”

“I stroke her lightly, memorizing her body. I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin. I lie motionless, savoring the feeling of her body against mine. I'm afraid to breathe in case I break the spell.”

“Being the survivor stinks.”

“Dear God. Not only am I unemployed and homeless, but I also have a pregnant woman, bereaved dog, elephant, and eleven horses to take care of.”

“It's just a crazy damned life, that's all ...”

“The more distressing the memory, the more persistent it's presence. ”

“Age is a terrible thief. Just when you're getting the hang of life, it knocks your legs out from under you and stoops your back. It makes you ache and muddies your head and silently spreads cancer throughout your spouse.”

“I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin.I want.”