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Quote by Stephen Graham Jones

“It was a good day to die, but nobody did.”

Book:The Bird is Gone: A Manifesto

Work

The Bird is Gone: A Manifesto

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Author

Stephen Graham Jones

Stephen Graham Jones, born in 1972, is an American author known for his works in the horror and supernatural genres. His writing style is unique, often blending reality with fantasy and exploring the darker aspects of human nature. Jones has gained popularity among readers with his works that are praised for their distinctive interpretation of horror elements and profound thematic explorations. more

“. . . what I told Malory happened next is that when he looked over at her then it was like he'd been waiting a hundred years to see her, and this crazy ass Ledfeather girl all the way from Standing Rock, she looked off after the elk and then back at Doby through her hair, like she'd maybe been waiting for him too, but was scared a little, wanted to be sure, so Doby opened his mouth and said her name across the backseat of Junior's cab, Claire, like a flower opening in his mouth, and she held her lips together and nodded thank you to him, yes, thank you, and then swallowed what was in her throat and just let the sides of their hands touch together again some like it didn't really matter. But it did.”

Love Hope Destiny Soulmates Time Travel Twist Native American Literature

Book:Ledfeather

Source: Ledfeather

“For me, the real issues of our time are the issues of every time—the hurt and wonder of loving; making in all its forms—children, loaves of bread, paintings, buildings; and the conservation of life of all people in all places, the jeopardizing of which no abstract doubletalk of ‘peace’ or ‘implacable foes’ can excuse. ("Context", 1962)”

Time Meaning

Author:Sylvia Plath

“We're boys. That's what we're supposed to do.”

Mystery Lgbtq Psychological Fiction Native American Literature

Book:This Town Sleeps: A Novel

Source: This Town Sleeps: A Novel

“At school, my science teacher talked about the ozone layer even as aerosol hairspray kept clouding the bathroom stalls. I tried to tell Mom about climate change, but she acted like I was gullible. If I was mad about losing our land, I was even angrier about what they'd done to it. While I still didn't know about the massacres, I knew enough to feel robbed. Manhatten was purchased with beads. Valuable furs had been traded for whiskey. White people used empty promises as tender, and in exchange, we Indians got blood quantum, our lineages tracked like thoroughbreds or dogs, destined to be turned into glue.”