This week, not a passage from a book, but from Anne Enright’s eloquent and elegant Globe and Mail review of Alice Munro’s new collection, Too Much Happiness:
Most importantly, these stories are not asking for our praise, they ask for our attention. They are not written for the crowd, but for the individual reader. They don’t ask for noise, but for silence — an not an awed silence (though awe is certainly possible), but the silence that happens when you close a book and pause, and continue with your life, less lonely than you were before.
swoon.