No one forgets the truth; they just get better at lying

“Our ability to measure and apportion time affords an almost endless source of comfort.”

“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.”

“People did change, and a change could be a bloom as well as a withering…”

“He couldn’t even tell whether he was angry or contrite, whether it was forgiveness he wanted or the power to forgive.”

“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.”

(Richard Yates – Revolutionary Road)

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