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I found it impossible not to imagine a radiant future for myself.

The proper qualities of each sex are eternally surprising to the other.

That, indeed, is very nearly the whole of the higher artistic process.

An awkward, unscientific lie is often as ineffectual as the truth.

Jayne Anne Phillips

Laurie Saurborn Young

Her top lip lingered behind, pressed between his. They were soaked.

When he died earlier this year an enormous hole was left in my life.

The hut was cluttered with the skulls and bones of small animals.

I cradled the lifeless bird in my hand and marveled at its beauty.

Put out to pasture, flop down into clover, alternate to the glue factory.

I broke up fights, bandaged cuts, fielded calls from parents, and sat with the sad or depressed.

Joshua was well versed in things to which I was not yet privy, like sex.

Our neighbors the Bells are watching, watching us when we play outside.

The rifle slams into my shoulder. Smoke pummels the air.

Mom often went to work on her days off. The library was her refuge.

The stories of terror continued well after the tsunami had passed.

When we wake up, the five windows and the French door are full of light.

Another girl like an origami crane, given to a reckless boy who unfolds it.

Even in death, my mother had to make things difficult for me.

The beer and the kissing and the lateness of the hour had got to me.

You must not be afraid of what waits after death, my past self says.

The last thing one settles in writing a book is what one should put in first.

A pie can’t go to college, work hard for the grades, two jobs on the side.

The church was clearly the work of a madman driven crazy by the wind.

The Renaissance mastered the illusion of depth on a flat plane.

In my eyes is the flame of the adolescent he wants to hire.

Lucy Liu, you show me I can come to fruition and yellow on my own terms.