From the book:Fall On Your Knees pg. 124One day, I'll sit down with all my books around me, and just start reading.
Having experienced her own disappearance, she is conscious of how important it is for people to be seen, so when she looks at them --even the blind one--she also looks for them, just in case they too...
The world should not be organized to require heroines, and when one is required but fails to appear, we should not judge.
It's because a real and beautiful voice delicately rends the chest, discovered the heart, and holds it beating against a stainless edge until you long to be pierced utterly. For the voice is everythin...
Dark and sweet, the elixir of love is in her mouth. The more I drink, the more I remember all the things we've never done. I was a ghost until I touched you. Never swallowed mortal food until I tasted...
She wonders when it was that she began to despair. All these years she mistook it for pious resignation. Now she sees the difference. Such a fine line between a state of grace and a state of mortal si...
It's a self-portrait and the artist is in love.
James discovered that there is nothing
I love the buildings. They're called skyscrapers. They're the closest thing to an ocean here. But it's an ocean that goes straight up, not flat out. They say that the body of water stretching away to...
But I have discovered something about modest people. They're just waiting for the call. Then they are the first over the wall and into the temple.
You think you're safe. Until you see a picture like that. And then you know you'll always be a slave to the present because the present is more powerful than the past, no matter how long ago the prese...
He was neither frightened nor skeptical, but felt himself drawn in with an involuntaryfaith--which is what faith is
[Mercedes] learns a valuable lesson: if you think you are good, just try doing good. You'll soon find out how inadequate your little drop of goodness is.
They are so young, they forget that the world is not as in love with them as they are.
When will she discover that I am from a lesser race of immortals? But the high deities have always needed pixies to persuade them down to earth. When she no longer needs an intermediary, will she stil...
As time went by, it mattered less and less that in 1969 a rocket went from Florida to the moon and men walked there. Good men. People's dads. Those were only events, scattered in time. Draw them close...
You're not bad ... you're just lost.I know exactly where I am. That doesn't mean you're not lost.
She never knows when it might strike. The rage. And when it does, she loses her grip on herself—literally. At times, she could swear she sees another self—shiny black phantom, faceless, as though clad...
Tell the story, gather the events, repeat them. Pattern is a matter of upkeep. Otherwise the weave relaxes back to threads picked up by birds to make their nests. Repeat, or the story will fall and al...
The world should not be organized to require heroines, and when one is required but fails to appear we should not judge. We should just say, poor Camille, she turned into a bitch the way most people w...
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