Why is it our failures only show us more clearly the people we are failing?
When did it come to Davy Land that exile is a country of shifting borders, hard to quit yet hard to endure, no matter your wide shoulders, no matter your toughened heart?
Be careful whom you choose to hate.The small and the vulnerable own a protection great enough, if you could but see it, to melt you into jelly.Beware those who reside beneath the shadow of the Wings.
They came one at a time or in shy small groups. I remember when sea-kindly showed up, a sentimental favorite, followed by desiccated and massive. Brusque appeared all by itself, which seemed apt; merr...
So thoughtlessly we sling on our destinies.
My sister comes on like a box of nails, but her devotion to the mythic is profound.
If you can’t talk sense, don’t talk at all.
Whenever I didn't know what to write next, I put a swift river in front of his horse and sent the two of them across!
Then Israel Finch got to his feet and pointed the light at Dolly. He told Tommy to hold her arms, and Tommy roared as if they were the funniest words in his reduced language. Realizing his cut wasn’t...
The firelight had restored his face to healthy color and she, all Frenchbraided, scarf unslung, resembled an opportunity missed by Rembrandt.
Of course vindictiveness is an ugly trait and, yes, I do mean to forgive all these nice deserters; I mean, eventually, to say, to their ghosts if not their living faces, It’s all right. I understand....
No miracle happens without a witness. Someone to declare, Here’s what I saw. Here’s how it went. Make of it what you will.
It’s possible to perceive what is coming and still be dumbfounded when it happens.
Is it hubris to believe we all live epics?
In times of dread it’s good to have an old man along. An old man has seen worse.
I experienced an unspooling sense of freedom—genuine antagonism is something I’ve rarely encountered, and it felt good to respond with honesty instead of obsequious scraping.
He had a hundred merry crinkles at his eyes and a long-haul sadness in his shoulders.
You can embark on new and steeper versions of your old sins, you know, and cry tears while doing it that are genuine as any.
Sometimes heroism is nothing more than patience, curiosity, and a refusal to panic.
Someday, you know, we're going to be shown the great ledger of our recorded decisions-a dread concept you nonetheless know in your deepest soul is true.