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Judging beauty, which is keenest, Eye or heart or mind or penis?

Her lips had the scent of the first kiss, and a thirst for justice.

You can always tell the military folk by their even stance, their steady gaze.

I told kids I didn’t feel a thing there anymore, but it was a lie.

“Rev. MacLean’s been stabbed in Oban,” his wife said, her voice thin.

A body must learn again how to accept the proprietorial hands of a lover.

“Some men’re like that. They have to see what they’re missing.”

Jennifer Egan’s A Visit From the Goon Squad wins Pulitzer Prize.

Lust was just a frenzy of activity that had mostly led Benny in circles.

Time stops as the ball rolls tantalizingly around the rim.

Hands that have waved farewell, sooner or later I will see them again.

You know how good she has always been at hiding herself.

The mirror will flow and the heart will set like glass in the frame of his bones.

My husband screws around. Not much and not often, but I know.

This is what he must have felt when she told him about her affair.

I went for a natural, “I look pretty even when I’m giving birth,” look.

I’ve sinned. Cannot be saved. He was a child. Surely he went to heaven.

With no words to speak about our love, we’re each one more alone.

I have three girls from my previous marriages, but she beats them all.

Lying in wait, set to pounce on the page, are letters up to no good.

It’s all that I have left of “the old country,” as my mother calls it.

Below, the kiss silently maneuvers our bodies closer to the rose bed.

I think you might have turned into a novelist, if we’d been allowed to go on.

Thus is the way of leaves the secret ones that no one sees, not even me

If I also could be lifted into the sky, I’d wish to be blown apart.

I tell her I’m a woman now, that my boobs just popped in.

A coldness bumped a last kiss upon my cheek, a good-bye kiss sliding across.

This is not deception. This is a subtle way of conditioning.

Marriage changes passion. Suddenly you’re in bed with
a relative.