Why should the other ones in this play get a second chance at life, but not him? Why's he have to suffer so much for being what he is? It's like he's, you know, black or Native or something. Five stri...
What’s with her? says the painter. She’s mad because she’s a woman, Jon says. This is something I haven’t heard for years, not since high school. Once it was a shaming thing to say, and crushing to h...
Whatever is silenced will clamor to be heard, though silently.
What was the rationale for all this pillaging? Souvenirs. These people needed something to remember themselves by. An odd thing, souvenir-hunting: now becomes then even while it is still now. You don'...
What she read was a series of short connected lyrics, Isis in Darkness. The Egyptian Queen of Heaven and Earth was wandering in the Underworld, gathering up pieces of the murdered and dismembered body...
What restless woman can resist a man with a shovel in one hand and a glowing rose bush in the other, and a moderately crazed glitter in his eyes that might be mistaken for love?
What is toast? says Snowman to himself, once they’ve run off. Toast is when you take a piece of bread – What is bread? Bread is when you take some flour – What is flour?We’ll skip that part, it’s too...
What I have always assumed in him to be bravery may be merely an ignorance of consequences. He thinks he is safe, because he is what he says he is. But he’s out in the open, and surrounded by stranger...
We thought we could do better.Better? I say, in a small voice. How can he think this is better?Better never means better for everyone, he says. It always means worse, for some.
Time comes in waves here, a sickness, oneday after the other rolling on;I move up, it’s called awake, then down into the uneasynights but neverforward.
Thus the time passed. Toby stopped counting it. In any case, time is not a thing that passes, said Pilar: it’s a sea on which you float.
Thus on Predator Day we meditate on the Alpha Predator aspects of God. The suddenness and ferocity with which an apprehension of the Divine may appear to us; our smallness and fearfulness-may I say, o...
This is a reconstruction. All of it is a reconstruction. It's a reconstruction now, in my head, as I lie flat on my single bed rehearsing what I should or shouldn't have said, what I should or shouldn...
Things, the word she used when whatever it stood for was too distasteful or filthy or horrible to pass her lips. A successful life for her was one that avoided things, excluded things. Such things do...
They wore blouses with buttons down the front that suggested the possibilities of the word . These women could be undone; or not. They seemed to be able to choose.
They say:Speak for us (to whom?)Some say: Avenge us (on whom?)Some say: Take our place.Some say: WitnessOthers say (and these are women)Be happy for us.
They had been pathetically eager to have the wedding in the family church. Their reaction though, as far as she could estimate the reactions of people who were now so remote from her, was less elated...
These things sneak up on him for no reason, these flashes of irrational happiness. It's probably a vitamin deficiency.
There has to be an us because now there is them.
The sands of time are quicksands, said Adam One. So much can sink into them without a trace. And what a blessing when those things that sink away are needless worries.