Susan Orlean
If you had really loved something, wouldn’t a little bit of it always linger? — Susan Orlean, The Orchid Thief (Random House, 1998)
If you had really loved something, wouldn’t a little bit of it always linger? — Susan Orlean, The Orchid Thief (Random House, 1998)
Autumns reward western Kansas for the evils that the remaining seasons impose: winter’s rough Colorado winds and hip-high, sheep-slaughtering snows; the slushes and the strange land fogs of spring; and summer, when even crows seek the puny shade, and the tawny infinitude of wheatstalks bristle, blaze. At last, after September, another weather arrives, an Indian… Continue reading Truman Capote
You exist in a half-world suspended between two superstructures, one self-expression and the other self-destruction. — Truman Capote, In Cold Blood (Random House, 1965)
Loneliness is not being alone, it’s loving others to no avail. — John Berendt, The City of Falling Angels. (Penguin Books; First Edition edition September 26, 2006)