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 Story
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)
Hans Christian Anderson
The Little Match GIrl Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening– the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but… Continue reading Hans Christian Anderson
