“When a reader finishes a wonderful story and lays it aside, he should have to pause for a minute and collect himself.” ShouldStoriesWonderfulMinutesReaderShould HaveLaysPauses Book:Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose Source: Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“She serves me a piece of it a few minutes out of the oven. A little steam rises from the slits on top. Sugar and spice - cinnamon - burned into the crust. But she's wearing these dark glasses in the kitchen at ten o'clock in the morning - everything nice - as she watches me break off a piece, bring it to my mouth, and blow on it. My daughter's kitchen, in winter. I fork the pie in and tell myself to stay out of it. She says she loves him. No way could it be worse.” WayLittlesDarkWatchesBreakMorningPiecesNiceMinutesTenMouthsDaughterWinterGlassesBlowClockKitchenMy DaughterSugarBurnedPieSpicesSteamForksOvensWatch MeSlitsCinnamonBreak OffDark GlassesSugar And Spice Book:All of Us: The Collected Poems Source: All of Us: The Collected Poems
“If we're lucky, writer and reader alike, we'll finish the last line or two of a short story and then just sit for a minute, quietly. Ideally, we'll ponder what we've just written or read; maybe our hearts or intellects will have been moved off the peg just a little from where they were before. Our body temperature will have gone up, or down, by a degree. Then, breathing evenly and steadily once more, we'll collect ourselves, writers and readers alike, get up, "created of warm blood and nerves" as a Chekhov character puts it, and go on to the next thing: Life. Always life.” IfsWritingHeartLittlesHas BeensTwoCharacterStoriesBodyLastsNextLinesGoneWrittenBloodMinutesGoes OnReaderLuckyDegreesMovedWarmIntellectGet UpBreathingNervesShort StoryTemperaturePonderingChekhovPegBody Temperature Book:Where I'm Calling From Source: Where I'm Calling From
“Woke up this morning with a terrific urge to lie in bed all day and read. Fought against it for a minute. Then looked out the window at the rain. And gave over. Put myself entirely in the keep of this rainy morning. Would I live my life over again? Make the same unforgivable mistakes? Yes, given half a chance. Yes.” LyingGivenChanceMistakeHalfMorningMinutesBedRainWindowUrgesLiving My LifeTerrificRainyI Live My LifeUnforgivable Book:All of Us: The Collected Poems Source: All of Us: The Collected Poems
