And what amazes me as I hit the motorway is not the fact that everyone loses someone, but that everyone loves someone. It seems like such a massive waste of energy – and we all do it, all the people beetling along the white lines, merging, converging, overtaking. We each love someone, although they will die. And we keep loving them, even when they are not there to love anymore. And there is no logic or use to any of this, that I can see.
The Gathering, Anne Enright.
What is it with the Irish that makes them so melancholic?
I bought this book during the Great Borders Closing Sale. It won the Man Book Prize in 2007. And it cost me $5. I cannot decide if I like it just yet, but I am still reading it, which is something.
So. There’s that quote above.
What is it about loving people that seems so inevitable and futile and necessary? It really isn’t about being romantic because love can be the least romantic thing on earth sometimes.
I think it is unfair that we have no say in this loving business.