Know what we did, Lucy? You and me? We spent our whole lives yearning. Isn't that the God damndest thing?
Richard YatesRead
The Revolutionary Hill Estates had not been designed to accommodate a tragedy. Even at night, as if on purpose, the development held no looming shadows and no gaunt silhouettes. It was invincibly cheerful, a toyland of white and pastel houses whose bright, uncurtained windows winked blandly through a dappling of green and yellow leaves … A man running down these streets in desperate grief was indecently out of place.
Interpretation
The quote depicts the incongruity of personal tragedy within a superficially cheerful environment.
In Richard Yates' depiction, the contrast between the bright, cheerful aesthetics of the Revolutionary Hill Estates and the deep, personal grief of a man highlights the unsettling nature of loss within a seemingly perfect setting. This juxtaposition serves to illustrate how external appearances can starkly contradict internal emotional realities, emphasizing the complexity of human experience in the face of life's tragedies.
In practice
This quote could be used in a discussion about how society often overlooks individual suffering.
Know what we did, Lucy? You and me? We spent our whole lives yearning. Isn't that the God damndest thing?
She was calm and quiet now with knowing what she had always known, what neither her parents nor Aunt Claire nor Frank nor anyone else had ever had to teach her: that if you wanted something to do something absolutely honest, something true, it always turned out to be a thing that had to be done alone.
He found it so easy and so pleasant to cry that he didn’t try to stop for a while, until he realized he was forcing his sobs a little, exaggerating their depth with unnecessary shudders. … The whole point of crying is to quit before you coined it up. The whole point of grief itself was to cut it out while it was still honest, while it still meant something. Because the thing was so easily corrupted
Do you know what the definition of insane is? Yes. It’s the inability to relate to another human being. It’s the inability to love.
It's a disease. Nobody thinks or feels or cares any more; nobody gets excited or believes in anything except their own comfortable little God damn mediocrity.
She just happened to feel like it. Wasn’t that after all, the only reason there was? Had she ever had a less selfish, more complicated reason for doing anything in her life?
And all that weirdness isn't just going on outside. It's in you too, right now, growing in the dark like magic mushrooms. Call it the Thing in the Cellar. Call it the Blow Lunch Factor. Call it the Loony Tunes File. I think of it as my private dinosaur, huge, slimy, and mindless, stumbling around in the stinking swamp of my subconscious, never finding a tar pit big enough to hold it.
Man is to man either a god or a wolf.
It is time that scientists and other public intellectuals observed that the contest between faith and reason is zero-sum.
Fate is the raw materials of experience. They come uninvited and often unanticipated. Destiny is what a man does with these raw materials.
when I become death. Death is the seed from which I grow.
It is a fatal mistake to assume that God’s goal for your life is material prosperity or popular success, as the world defines it. The abundant life has nothing to do with material abundance, and faithfulness to God does not guarantee success in a career or even ministry. Never focus on temporary crowns.
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