Think of someone you want to touch whom you cannot touch, someone forbidden. Think of a room where there is nothing except the two of you: still, you cannot touch them. Think of the heat between two hands about to touch, the language that exists in that silence. — Chelsea Hodson, from “A Simple Woman,”… Continue reading Chelsea Hodson
Sometimes I see me dead in the rain. — J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey. (Little, Brown and Company; 1st edition, January 30, 1961)
The light was draining out of the room, going back through the window where it had come from. — Raymond Carver, from “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love,” What We Talk About When We Talk About Love (Alfred A. Knopf, 1981)
Her eyes were those of someone who’s just fallen in love, someone who sees nothing but her lover, someone who has no fear of anything. The eyes of someone who believes that every dream will come true, that reality will move if you just give it a push. — Banana Yoshimoto, Asleep. (Grove Press August… Continue reading Banana Yoshimoto
My eyes were glued on life and they were full of tears. ― Jack Kerouac, Atop an Underwood: Early Stories and Other Writings. (Penguin Books; Fourth Printing edition, November 1, 2000) Originally published November 1st 1999.
Stories, like people and butterflies and songbirds’ eggs and human hearts and dreams, are also fragile things, made up of nothing stronger or more lasting than twenty-six letters and a handful of punctuation marks. Or they are words on the air, composed of sounds and ideas-abstract, invisible, gone once they’ve been spoken-and what could be… Continue reading Neil Gaiman
I’m a kind of paranoiac in reverse. I suspect people of plotting to make me happy. — J.D. Salinger, Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters & Seymour: An Introduction. (Back Bay Books January 30, 2001) Originally published 1955,
