Fathima Shoaib

“If I had a camera," I said, "I'd take a picture of you every day. That way I'd remember how you looked every single day of your life."

"I look exactly the same."

"No, you don't. You're changing all the time. Every day a tiny bit. If I could, I'd keep a record of it all."

"If you're so smart, how did I change today?"

"You got a fraction of a millimeter taller, for one thing. Your hair grew a fraction of a millimeter longer. And your breasts grew a fraction of a—"

"They did not!"

"Yes, they did."

"Did NOT."

"Did too."

"What else, you big pig?"

"You got a little happier and also a little sadder."

"Meaning they cancel out each other, leaving me exactly the same."

"Not at all. The fact that you got a little happier today doesn't change the fact that you also become a little sadder. Every day you become a little more of both, which means that right now, at this exact moment, you're the happiest and the saddest you've ever been in your whole life."

"How do you know?"

"Think about it. Have you ever been happier or sadder than right now, lying here in this grass?"

"I guess not. No."

"And have you ever been sadder?"

"No."

"It isn't like that for everyone, you know. Some people[...]"

"What about you? Are you the happiest and saddest right now that you've ever
been?"

"Of course I am."

"Why?"

"Because nothing makes me happier and nothing makes me sadder than you.”
― Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

“Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.”
― Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

“When I got older I decided I wanted to be a real writer. I tried to write about real things. I wanted to describe the world, because to live in an undescribed world was too lonely.”
― Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

“Some people are uncomfortable with silences. Not me. I’ve never cared much for call and response. Sometimes I will think of something to say and then I ask myself: is it worth it? And it just isn’t.”
― Miranda July, No One Belongs Here More Than You