Sully suffers from a stutter, simple syllables will clutter, stalling speeches up on beaches like a sunken sailboat rudder. Sully strains to say his phrases, sickened by the sounds he raises, strings of thoughts come out in knots, he solves his sente...
I guess we are juste two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl," I say. Her eyes narrow. "I've heard that somewhere before." I smile and point at her briefly. "Pink Floyd. But it's the truth." "You think we're lost?" I tilt my head back a little and loo...
Clay sat up, swinging a leg over Jeff's body to straddle him. He grabbed both wrists and pinned them by Jeff's head, bending closer until they shared a breath between parted lips. "There's something about you, Jeff. Always something." "I'm just an or...
A thinking mind is not swallowed up by what it comes to know. It reaches out to grasp something related to itself and to its present knowledge (and so knowable in some degree) but also separate from itself and from its present knowledge (not identica...
In bed that night I invented a special drain that would be underneath every pillow in New York, and would connect to the reservoir. Whenever people cried themselves to sleep, the tears would all go to the same place, and in the morning the weatherman...
If the only one who can kill an angel can’t do it, then who can?’ It’s a good question, one that takes me a minute to come up with an answer. ‘Obadiah West can. Him and his freedom fighters. I’m just a teenager.’ ‘History is filled with...
There's no way on God's green earth that I'm dressing up like Mr. Darcy." Brooks stretched out on Caroline's bed, hanging his suede wing tips off the edge and crossing his ankles. He laced his fingers behind his head and looked infuriatingly cool and...
Fish held the silence for so long that I had to restrain myself from prodding her. That's never a good idea. Sometimes people hesitate because they don't have the courage to come out with whatever needs to be said; other times they desperately want t...
Everything we get, outside of the free gifts of nature, must in some way be paid for. The world is full of so- called economists who in turn are full of schemes for getting something for nothing. They tell us that the government can spend and spend w...
A farm regulated to production of raw commodities is not a farm at all. It is a temporary blip until the land is used up, the water polluted, the neighbors nauseated, and the air unbreathable. The farmhouse, the concrete, the machinery, and outbuildi...
'We're doing it because he's trying to look like a respectable member of the family and not the fucking mafia,' Dex snapped. He grimaced at Ethan. 'Sorry, man, but seriously--this is some fuckin' suit.' Ethan looked at himself and his spiffy shiny cu...
Love is never enough. Madness is enough. It is complete, sufficient unto itself. You can only stand outside it as a woman might stand outside a prison in which her lover is locked up. From time to time, a well-loved face will peer out and love floods...
A book is a vacation for the mind. My books will take you inside my mind, so feel free to make yourself at home. Do as you please, but please don’t put your feet up on my hippocampus.
There are at least two sides to every issue, and I like my issues sunny side up. I also like bacon and toast on the side. Are you eating what I’m saying?
Once the bar gets set too high, simply lower it so you can keep on hitting your goals. You could get a lot more chin-ups done this way.
I’m growing a love seat in my heart. It’s leather and covered in fur, from a mix up with my cat’s back, some glue, my tongue, and my confusion over how to best clean the chair.
In the morning I brush my teeth with hope, and at night before bed I brush them with defeat. Both are mint flavored, so I try not to get them mixed up.
Imagine yourself in Harriet Tubman's shoes. Fighting to be freed from deplorable conditions. Placing one foot in front of the other, putting slavery behind you. If a petite, abused slave can rise up, fight for freedom, secure the freedom of others, a...
The main question to a novel is -- did it amuse? were you surprised at dinner coming so soon? did you mistake eleven for ten? were you too late to dress? and did you sit up beyond the usual hour? If a novel produces these effects, it is good; if it d...
One by one, the thoughts and memories of sadness raised their hands, stood up to identify themselves. I looked at each thought, at each unit of sorrow, and I acknowledged its existence and felt (without trying to protect myself from it) its horrible ...
Getting out of a marriage is rough, though, and not just for the legal / financial complications or the massive lifestyle upheaval. (As my friend Deborah once advised me wisely: "Nobody ever died from splitting up furniture.") It's the emotional reco...
