Real life is too sloppy a model for good fiction, Juan Diego had said.
Quando chegou a Portland, já tirara as suas conclusões. Era um obstetra; trazia bebês ao mundo. Os colegas diziam que isso era a obra de Deus. E era um aborteiro; também salvava as mães. Os colegas di...
I’m not afraid, but I’m very nervous.
It is amazing to me, now, how such wild imaginings and philosophies - inspired by a night charged with frights and calamities - made such perfectly good sense to Owen Meany and me, but good friends ar...
I made some fresh pasta with a neat machine Frank brought from New York; it flattens the dough in sheets and cuts the pasta into any shape you want. It’s important to have toys like that, if you live...
Gender mattered a whole lot less to Shakespeare than it seems to matter to us.
Easter is the main even; if you don't believe in the resurrection, you're not a believer.
Candy took the bathing suit from her and used the suit to wipe the tears from Rose Rose's face.You're fine, you're just fine, Candy said to the girl. And you're going to feel better. No one's going to...
At times, he admitted, he had been very happy in the apple business. He knew what Larch would have told him: that his happiness was not the point, or that it wasn't as important as his usefulness.
…it insisted to her that she was a writer, when perhaps she was only a sensitive and loving reader, a lover of literature who thought she wanted to write. I think it was the writing that killed Lilly,...
Won’t they?
When however small a measure of jealousy is mixed with misunderstanding, there is going to be trouble.
A school-vacation skier is never the equal to a north-country native.
[...]every study of the gods, of everyone's gods, is a revelation of vengeance toward the innocent
You're not like anyone else, Billy - that's what's the matter with you, Donna said.
You take every opportunity given you in this world, even if you have too many opportunities. One day the opportunities stop, you know?
Wizened and white, with brown blotched on her face the size and complexity of unshelled peanuts, Midge had a jitter in her head that made her pew like a chicken trying to make up its mind what to peck...
When Jack Burns needed to hold his mother's hand, his fingers could see in the dark.
This mannerism of what he'd seen of society struck Homer Wells quite forcefully; people, even nice people—because, surely, Wally was nice—would say a host of critical things about someone to whom they...
There comes a moment in every life when you must let go with your hands—with both hands.