“The fact, and the intuition or logic about the fact, are severe coordinates in fiction. In the short story they must cross with hair-line precision.” FactsStoriesLinesFictionHairCrossesLogicIntuitionShort StorySeverePrecisionCoordinates Book:A Poet's Alphabet: Reflections on the Literary Art and Vocation Source: A Poet's Alphabet: Reflections on the Literary Art and Vocation
“I look a little like Beaker. I think I'm a cross between Beaker and The Count. My hair looks like Oscar the Grouch. It's Muppety hair.” ThinkingLooksLittlesHairCrossesOscarsGrouches Author:Matthew Gray Gubler
“The old men of the village of Mahotière say that the Mistress of the Water is a mulatto woman. At midnight she comes out of the spring and sings while combing her dripping long hair, which makes a sound sweeter than a violin. It is a song of perdition for whomever hears it. There is no sign of the Cross, no "Our Father" to save him. Her curse takes him like a fish in a net and the Mistress of the Water awaits him on the edge of the spring and smiles upon him and tells him to follow her to the depths, from which he will never return.” MenLongSongFatherSoundWaterMusicHairReturnMusicianSpringCrossesDepthEdgesFishesCurseOld ManVillageMidnightMistressOur FatherViolinDrippingLong HairPerditionMulattoes Author:Jacques Roumain
“After I’d told her – the mall, the taxi, Cross stroking my hair – she said, ‘Did he kiss you?’ ‘John and Martin totally would have seen that,’ I said, and as I felt myself implying the circumstances had prevented our kissing, I thought maybe this was why you told stories to other people – for how their possibilities enlarged in the retelling.” PeopleSaidStoriesFeltPossibilityHairCircumstancesKissingCrossesTaxiMallsRetellingImplying Author:Curtis Sittenfeld
“Kevin stopped where he was and stood there simply gazing at her. Molly sat cross-legged in the meadow with the sun shining on her bare shoulders and a pair of yellow butterflies fluttering like hair bows around her head. She was all the dreams he'd lost at dawn-dreams of everything he hadn't understood he needed until now. She was his playmate, his confidante, the lover who made his blood rush. She was the mother of his children and the companion of his old age. She was the joy of his heart.” HeartChildrenMadeDreamAgeJoyMotherLostSunBloodHairNeededLoversUnderstoodCrossesShiningShouldersOld AgeDawnSatPairsCompanionYellowButterflyBowsMeadowsKevinGazingFluttering Author:Susan Elizabeth Phillips