“[He looked her up and down, appraising her from the dusty shoes to the expression of guarded hope in her eyes.] “Can I help?” he said.”—Sebastian Faulks, The Girl At the Lion d’Or (thanks, greysfanhp)
“[I could eat the sky
like an apple
but I’d rather
ask the first star:
why am I here?
why do I live in this house?
eh?”—Anne Sexton, from “The Fury of Sunsets” (via the-final-sentence)
“I slept before a wall of books and they
calmed everything in the room, even
their contents, even me, woken
by the cold and thrill, and still
they said, like the Dutch verb for falling
silent that English has no accommodation for
in the attics and rafters of its intimacies.”—Saskia Hamilton, “Zwijgen” (via the-final-sentence)
“A peninsula of storytelling, where the horizon tugs at my heart and where the dust from the city is discarded at the shoreline in a pile of clothes, whilst a body descends into the freezing salty waters, to emerge refreshed, at the possibility of it all.”—Sarah Winman, from When God Was a Rabbit (thanks, syntactically)
This is an often heard saying here in the south. I’m sure some, if not most, of you rolled your eyes and uttered a “whatever” in response. The thing is - it’s true. There is just something about living in the South that I love. And first let me point out that Hollywood never gets the south right….