Porphyre followed her to the base of the stairs. He’d stayed near her during the meal, as though he sensed her new unease. No, she thought, not new; the old, the always, the now and ever was.

because time isn't something that always proceeds at the same pace. It is we who determine how quickly time passes.

You can’t borrow time but you can pay for being stagnant

The relatives didn’t feel slighted—they had a limited interest in people like Roy who had just married into the family, and not even contributed any children to it, and who were not like themselves. They were large, expansive, talkative. He was short, compact, quiet.

Written By Alice Munro

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