Sandra Cisneros
I wanted to come undone like gold thread, like a tent full of birds. — Sandra Cisneros, from “One Holy Night,” Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories. (Random House April 3, 1991)
Category: Short Stories
Truman Capote
My, how foolish I am! You know what I’ve always thought? I’ve always thought a body would have to be sick and dying before they saw the Lord. And I imagined that when He came it would be like looking at the Baptist window: pretty as colored glass with the sun pouring through, such a… Continue reading Truman Capote
Anaïs Nin
You are the poet, you walk inside my dreams… — Anaïs Nin, Under a Glass Bell (Swallow Press, 1944)
Simon Van Booy
Each year is like putting a new coat over all the old ones. Sometimes I reach into the pockets of my childhood and pull things out. — Simon Van Booy, from “Little Birds,” The Secret Lives of People in Love (Turtle Point Press, 2007)
Jorge Luis Borges
One day or one night—between my days and nights, what difference can there be?—I dreamed that there was a grain of sand on the floor of my cell. Unconcerned, I went back to sleep; I dreamed that I woke up and there were two grains of sand. Again I slept; I dreamed that now there… Continue reading Jorge Luis Borges
Octavio Paz
Stretched out side by side, we exhanged confidences, whispers, smiles. Curled up, she fell on my chest and unfolded there like a vegetation of murmurs. She sang in my ear, a little sea shell. She became humble and transparent, clutching my feet like a small animal, calm water. She was so clear I could read… Continue reading Octavio Paz
George Saunders
It was that impossible thing: happiness that does not wilt to reveal the thin shoots of some new desire rising from within it. ― George Saunders, from “Escape from Spiderhead,” Tenth of December: Stories. (Random House January 8, 2013)
