Elizabeth Gilbert

Eat, Pray, Love

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  • Діана М'ягкаhas quoted2 years ago
    First
    All this talk of nectar and bliss is starting to annoy me.
    I don't know about you, my friend,
    but my path to God isn't sweet waft of incense.
    It's a cat in a pigeon cage, and I'm the cat -
    but also them who yell like hell when they get pinned.
    My path to God is a worker's uprising,
    won't be peace till they unionize.
    Their protest is so fearsome
    the National Guard won't go near them.
    My path was beaten unconscious before me,
    by a small brown man I had never seen,
    who chased God through India, shin-deep in mud,
    barefoot and famined, malarial blood,
    sleeping in doorways, under bridges - a hobo.
    (Which is short for "homeward bound," you know)
    And he now chases me, saying: "Got it yet, Liz?
    What HOMEWARD means? What BOUND really is?"

    Second
  • Діана М'ягкаhas quoted2 years ago
    leap over the edge
  • Діана М'ягкаhas quoted2 years ago
    life's every incident of anger rose. Every injustice, every betrayal, every loss, every rage. I saw them all, one by one, and I accepted their existence.
  • Діана М'ягкаhas quoted2 years ago
    SHE'S THROWING DUST INTO MY EYES.
  • Діана М'ягкаhas quoted2 years ago
    Cannot be rushed, this
  • Діана М'ягкаhas quoted2 years ago
    squeezing me like a passionate hug,
  • Діана М'ягкаhas quoted2 years ago
    waving at me from four feet
  • Діана М'ягкаhas quoted2 years ago
    fancy tucking and pinning of material around my ribs, "You have prospect to marrying Felipe?"
  • Діана М'ягкаhas quoted2 years ago
    wrapped tightly around my torso
  • Діана М'ягкаhas quoted2 years ago
    revealed through the event of lovemaking.
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