The feminist story, she reminded me, is a counternarrative, a narrative of disobedience, a chronicle of battle, nto of surrender. Women who do not fit the mold are too often maneuvered, manipulated, and mangled into some culturally safe archetype. Th...
Why does the writer write? The writer writes to serve — hopelessly he writes in the hope that he might serve — not himself and not others, but that great cold elemental grace which knows us. A writer I very much admire is Don DeLillo. At an award...
Cold men destroy women,” my mother wrote me years later. “They woo them with something personable that they bring out for show, something annexed to their souls like a fake greenhouse, lead you in, and you think you see life and vitality and sun ...
It was early evening twilight when we came around a corner… and there in the road was a red deer stag. He leapt up the bank beside the road and then paused, looking back over his shoulder as we passed. Like a scene in a dream I watched him as he wa...
You told me, if something is not used it is meaningless, and took my temperature, which I had thought to save for a more difficult day. In the mirror, every night, the same face, a bit more threadbare, a dress worn too long. The moon was out in the c...
But we who remain shall grow old We shall know the cold Of cheerless Winter and the rain of Autumn and the sting Of poverty, of love despised and of disgraces, And mirrors showing stained and aging faces, And the long ranges of comfortless years And ...
We must strive to be like the moon.' An old man in Kabati repeated this sentence often... the adage served to remind people to always be on their best behavior and to be good to others. [S]he said that people complain when there is too much sun and i...
So go ahead. Do it—open the book. See? You see me, right? And I see you. See? I am reading your face, your eyes, your lips. I know the sufferdust on your brow. I can see you reading and I can tell, too, when you are here, when you’re absent, what...
If there is a place in heaven for Labrador Retrievers (and I trust there is or I won't go) it'll have to have a brook right smack in the middle - a brook with little thin shoals for wading and splashing; a brook with deep, still pools where they can ...
The more he saw, the more he doubted. He watched men narrowly, and saw how, beneath the surface, courage was often rashness; and prudence, cowardice; generosity, a clever piece of calculation; justice, a wrong; delicacy, pusillanimity; honesty, a mod...
As McMasters raised the shotgun, the man removed his glasses. There were fields of stars where his eyes should have been. But they weren’t reflections of the night sky. These stars were a glimpse of a dim and distant future where the very laws of p...
It looks like fallen petals, and it looks like rain. It looks like the sounds the birds make at dawn. It looks like the aisle of grocery stores when a song I love suddenly begins to play overhead, and I cannot help but dance a little dance. It looks ...
Hannah: Take off your shirt. Jacob: Why? Hannah: Please can you take off your shirt, 'cause I can't stop thinking, and then you just... Jacob: Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. Hannah: Alright, okay, okay, okay. Jacob: [removing his shirt] Okay, okay, ok...
John Cooper Clarke: The colour scheme is fuckin' brown Everywhere in chicken town, The fuckin' pubs are fuckin' dull The fuckin' clubs are fuckin' full of fuckin' girls and fuckin' guys with fuckin' murder in their eyes, A fuckin' bloke gets fuckin' ...
Oscar Shapeley: You know, there's nothing I like better than to meet a high-class mama that can snap 'em back at ya. 'Cause the colder they are, the hotter they get. That's what I always say. Yes, sir, when a cold mama gets hot, boy, how she sizzles....
Del: You wanna hurt me? Go right ahead if it makes you feel any better. I'm an easy target. Yeah, you're right, I talk too much. I also listen too much. I could be a cold-hearted cynic like you... but I don't like to hurt people's feelings. Well, you...
Bill Cox: Hey, Scooter, did I tell you the one about the two ol' boys pissing off a bridge? Scooter: I don't believe you did. Bill Cox: Well, there were these two ol' boys and they hung their peckers off a bridge to piss. One ol' boy from California,...
Dick Hallorann: We've got canned fruits and vegetables, canned fish and meats, hot and cold syrups, Post Toasties, Corn Flakes, Sugar Puffs, Rice Krispies, Oatmeal... and Cream of Wheat. You got... [then, telepathically to Danny] Dick Hallorann: How'...
Higgins: It's simple economics. Today it's oil, right? In ten or fifteen years, food. Plutonium. Maybe even sooner. Now, what do you think the people are gonna want us to do then? Joe Turner: Ask them? Higgins: Not now - then! Ask 'em when they're ru...
Billy: My hands are freezing. Michael: 'Gizzem here. Billy: [Michael takes his hands and puts them in his jacket] What are you doing? Michael: Nothin'. Just warmin' your hands up. Billy: [pause] You're not a poof or owt? Michael: [deadpan] What gave ...
[last lines] George: So in the end, was it worth it? Jesus Christ. How irreparably changed my life has become. It's always the last day of summer and I've been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I'll grant you I've had more than my sha...
