“If you can find yourself a good style, you can go far beyond yourself!”
“She marveled at Janelle, who moved through the patches of sun that came through the leaves, with her perfect style. It wasn't fancy, but it made every moment feel like an occasion. Many people existed; Janelle lived.”
Source: The Vanishing Stair
“No matter how hard she tried to maintain her calm and collected persona, she knew it was all a ruse. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide. Hide from the world. Hide from her memories. Enter a shell and never leave. But hers would always be a broken shell, with all her cracks and holes exposed for the world to see. The veneer she had carefully painted to protect and hold herself together was peeling away.”
Source: Trust: Betrayed
“Connection begins where control ends.”
Source: The Art of Being Real: A Journey to Honest Living
“The men were not watering the grass; they were spraying it an emerald green. This was Ireland in an atomizer. The workers were coloring the dead, hurrying to finish before the Crown Prince's gaze would zoom by, perhaps peering through the bullet-proofed, tinted, heavily-armored glass of his German car. So much about the Kingdom concerned outward appearances. Veneer was as important as substance, perhaps more so.”
Source: In the Land of Invisible Women: A Female Doctor's Journey in the Saudi Kingdom
“It was a house that played with shapes and styles, a house with the power of making you question if you were inside or out.”
Source: The Spanish Daughter
“Nej, dét der drev hende, og som skilte os ad, var dét at jeg tænkte. Hun havde ikke forstået at dét, at tage en uddannelse betød at jeg ville begynde at tænke: tænke sammenhængende og tænke højt. Hun blev voldsomt overrasket over det. Mine sætninger blev længere allerede efter en måneds undervisning. Længere, mere indviklede og med ord hvis betydning hun ikke altid kendte. Jeg havde aldrig før sagt ord, hun ikke kendte. Eller frembragt en sætning hvis logik hun ikke kunne følge. Eller forsøgt at fremsætte et synspunkt, der var resultatet af en abstraktion. Det gjorde hende vanvittig. Hendes ansigt fik et udtryk af dyrisk snedighed når jeg påbegyndte en sætningskonstruktion som umuligt kunne afsluttes før der var blevet fyret tre bisætninger af. Snedigheden førte til vrede, vreden flammede op og blev til raseri. “Hver er det du snakker om”? Råbte hun ad mig. “Hvad er det du snakker om? Tal engelsk, tak! Vi forstår alle sammen engelsk her. Så tal engelsk!”
Source: Voldsomme bånd
“You leave behind your fine poems.
You leave behind your beautiful flowers. And the earth that was only leant to you. You ascend into the Light, O Quechomitl, you leave behind the flowers and the singing and the earth. Safe journey, O friend.”
Source: Servant of the Underworld
“This fifth and final sun will die,
Like every sun before—
But for a moment we laughed in its light,
Like wind-blown petals
Sparkling near an exile’s campfire
Before the flames take them.”
Source: Shattering and Bricolage
“All the earth is a grave, and nought escapes it; nothing is so perfect that it does not fall and disappear. The rivers, brooks, fountains and waters flow on, and never return to their joyous beginnings; they hasten on to the vast realms of Tlaloc, and the wider they spread between their marges the more rapidly do they mould their own sepulchral urns. That which was yesterday is not to-day; and let not that which is to-day trust to live to-morrow.”
Source: Ancient Nahuatl Poetry, Containing the Nahuatl Text of XXVII Ancient Mexican Poems : Brinton's Library of Aboriginal American Literature Number VII.