los pájaros y el tendido eléctrico, escribe robinson

I was trying to remember what birds did before there were telephone wires. It would have been much harder for them to roost in the sunlight, which is a thing they clearly enjoy doing, se pregunta un personaje de Marilynne Robinson, en Gilead.

nada más asombroso que un rostro, dice robinson

That is something. And I’m glad I knew it at the time, because now, in my present situation, now that I am about to leave this world, I realize there is nothing more astonishing than a human face. Boughton and I have talked about that, too. It has something to do with incarnation. You feel your obligation to a child when you have seen it and held it. Any human face is a claim on you, because you can’t help but understand the singularity of it, the courage and loneliness of it. But this is a truest of the face of an infant. I consider that to be one kind of vision, as mystical as any. Boughton agrees--dixit Marilynne Robinson en Gilead. (66)