Best 6 quotes of Emily Fridlund on MyQuotes

Her love for him has always been the underdog. She roots for it as if from a distance. She imagines what they must look like through the uncurtained window, the picture of tranquil domesticity they must now make. He smells like cilantro and beer, like curry and rain. And underneath that, he smells like himself, like nobody else, his body alarming because it is already so familiar.

It wasn't that Lora couldn't sleep, but she chose to avoid her dreams, which she said were better than life. 'I don't need the disappointment in the morning,' she told me, scooping coffee grounds into the paper filter.

This is how you keep a best friend: you talk out of guilt, you live in separate states. Again and again, you vow fidelity to her in fits of absurd hopefulness. It is the same as being in love.

This was the best and worst thing about my wife: she felt sorry for me. When I put my work boots on the mantel or fell asleep on her side of the bed, she'd groan and clench her teeth. She'd kiss me, long and deep, a sigh of disappointment.

Winter collapsed on us that year. It knelt, exhausted, and stayed.

With most people in my life, I come to the end of myself pretty fast. I walk to my borders--where there's dinner on a dropleaf table, maybe small talk or sex--then wave politely and turn back.