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Quote by Lish Soares

“Home is where the heart is... mine is nestled in the soft hush of written words, encapsulated by plush blankets of paper. - Lish Soares”

Quote by Lish Soares

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Lish Soares

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“He had been in New York the whole year managing his father's winery and office in lower Manhattan, but now he'd come home by train for Christmas--and the world was wonderful. Three thousand miles was nothing, you got on a train, you had your own private little room, you changed at Chicago, you ate great meals in the diner, you read mystery stories and newspapers in the club car, and then all of a sudden there you were back in Fresno, and there everybody was, standing on the station platform waiting for you. Who could ask for anything more?”

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Book:Places Where I've Done Time
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“I open the window to let the fresh air in, to let the breeze penetrate the spaces between my ribs and take the opportunity to cleanse me from within. Sounds erupt from the outside: seagulls crying, horses neighing, and waves crashing wildly against the cliffs. The dog’s howls are drowned out by ships’ horns. For those who live in a big city, these noises might seem like evidence of stillness. Silence, for some, is synonymous with human absence, by which they refer, especially, to the lack of articulated words, the silent of tongues. But on this piece of land, every moment forms part of an instrument. Here, every whisper unfolds into a complex melody that sees you in the front row of an impromptu concert.”

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Book:Chilco
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“She was gracious if oddly shy with his friends when they came to visit; she listened eagerly as women spoke to her of their pregnancy and childbirth experiences, of which they were happy to speak, and at length; the Playwright heard his wife tell one of these women that her own mother had once told her she'd loved being pregnant, it's the only time a woman truly feels at home in her body, and in the world - "Is that true?" The Playwright hadn't lingered to hear the answer; he wondered what such a revelation meant, for a man. Are we never at home in our bodies? In the world? Except in the act of sexual intercourse, transmitting our seed to the female?”

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Book:Blonde
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“As onerous as certain long-winded tasks are, the key seems to always be the same-- just keep going, just keep going, one foot in front of the other, one bag of garbage filled and out and then the next, one box of important things carefully packed and sealed and then another, more, more, just keep going, one foot in front of the other. And then look what you've got: a new home, a new life, a new play, a production, something you've knitted from fragments of dreams and ideas, something you've woven from yarns and memories, something you've written from yarns and images. One foot more.”

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Author:Shellen Lubin
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