martinimade

"Amy could not recall ever having laughed this hard. She did not feel, as the cliche would have it, as though her sides would split, but rather as if something high in front, her breastbone maybe, would buckle, or maybe her heart would just seize up. This was 'hysterical' laughter, and finally experiencing it confirmed her most deeply held belief: that all laughter, except possibly the nervous tittering sort - which was counterfeit, really - stemmed from the same source: an accidental glimpse behind the curtain of denial at the Real Deal, an uncontained porridge of nothingness and stars through which meteors, comets, entire galaxies whiz like shaving-cream pies."

- Jincy Willett, The Writing Class, which is a gorgeous, nuanced-yet-simple book about writers and writing and life. And I seem to be smitten with it.