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Journeysexpand_moreMy mother was dead. Almost a month she was dead, killed by me.
If he was going to pick me up, the least he could do was look at me.
He betook himself to the metropolis to become a literary man, of course.
Gresham’s law. Stupid talk chases smart talk out of circulation.
The graffiti suggests the most essential story of New Haven.
I want these things to have another life, like the old garden behind our house.
He had seduced them with his sincerity for truth-seeking.
Gotta watch them damn sorry folks he sez they leave the best stuff.
Isn’t Nightshade sad, people said; isn’t he pathetic; isn’t he hideous.
She had not anticipated that the nightstands would be an issue.
I’d make a tub of mud to keep live crabs. I’d refill it daily.
“Why do we always fight,” he finally said, his voice quiet, resigned.
He is too young even to be drinking let alone educating us.
The women wanted signs of regret, but she was straight shouldered.
There’s no way to escape a storm at sea; it hits you, and you can’t hit back.
Navigating the trailer park at night felt like a raid on a strange village.
He knew deep down that only her ridiculous optimism kept them going.
She’d ransacked his heart the moment she unlocked the door.
Riding back from her studio, Ivy thought, I’ll just stop for a minute.
How many gods do you believe in? How many good men?
If party isn’t what we set out to do then you should go home.
Today is my favorite kind of day. Night opens, light concedes.
Doctor Dressler left her a note: Suicide. Back by 7:00. Love, Max.
She wants something red and shiny that always works.
It’s way past 10 p.m. and we have no idea where our child is.
I found it impossible not to imagine a radiant future for myself.
He pretended he was in his boat, his cellmate’s flushing, Arctic Ocean.
My dear, even my ear is trying to eat itself in its attempt to forget you.
Enjoy the prison. It’s very impressive, worth spending some time!