Some beautiful words for your week . . .
“For a long time, the four of us sat in the living room in the kind of brittle silence I’d only ever felt in churches and libraries. The kind everyone is careful not to break.” (Tell The Wolves I’m Home, Carol Rifka Brunt)
“Imagine: you reach out towards the margin’s white hand
You do what your poems want and are clean
When you lay down your thorns you will be done
You do not take up arms against anyone”
(Praxis, Wendy Xu)
“Without even bothering to say goodbye, the Prock drew himself up to an immense height and then, as if being pulled by an invisible hand, he slid down to the floor in a single motion and disappeared through the crack under the door.” (The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles, Julie Andrews Edwards)
“I can’t steal things without two hands,” Eugenides said bitterly. “That’s why she cut one off.”
The queen of Attolia was only ever “she.” The name Attolia rarely passed his lips, as if Eugenides couldn’t bear the taste of the word in his mouth.
“There are a lot of things that a person with two hands couldn’t steal,” Eddis said.
“Surely if it’s impossible to steal them with two hands, it’s no more impossible to steal them with one. Steal peace, Eugenides. Steal me some time.” (The Queen of Attolia, Megan Whalen Turner)