(no subject)
Oates was discussing her newly printed journals from 1973 to 1982 with the poet Lawrence Joseph, when she commented on how often we take things for granted throughout life and that we so seldom remember the actual words our loved ones spoke to us. I thought that last bit was quite beautiful--seemingly so obvious, yet I had never considered such life affirming thoughts. She teared up when just a small, mundane section was read; it had a certain ephemeral beauty to it that I was so outrageously glad to witness.