“This poor woman’s poetry . . . was the kind of poetry that focused on how the poet felt. True, there was not much here to distinguish it from the vast watery sea of how all the other poets felt, but Taki-Smith had a peculiar genius for it. Her volume of verse that had won the Pulitzer Prize was not titled The Pale Parabola of Joy, but it might as well have been.”
About Twenty Yards Wide, to be Exact
“His grandfather was a revival preacher named Stump Hutchins from the Tupelo old school, and was capable, whenever he got going good, of preaching a pretty wide swath of blue ruin.”
Deadly, But Hard to See
“If that conversation had been the North Atlantic just several generations back, there would have been U-boats everywhere.” Flags Out Front, p. 117 ...
Priced to Move
“Maria could see at a glance that Willow must have settled in on some peculiar kind of feminasty revenge and that she needed to be near Tom to do it. Her outfit was like a sale at Macy’s—forty percent off—and Maria started to fume, but then checked herself. No need, no need.”
Why We Should be Suspicious of Digital Evidence
“Pretend you just told me that you read about some people who crept into my house in the middle of the night and they swear they found some porn in my library or under my bed. And you want to maintain that they are dishonest enough to break into my house like this, but honest enough not to plant the porn there? How did you get criminals like this with just the right balance of honesty and dishonesty?”
Circling on the Spiritual Plane
“Willow herself came out a minute later. She was tall, and striking, and commanding, and had thick auburn hair down to her shoulders. When introduced, Maria and Willow circled each other warily, but without the circling.”
He Probably Couldn’t Have
“On the question of whether a nonexistent god could have created the world, he felt like he had suddenly gotten out of his depth, theologically speaking.”
Unctuosity
“There had apparently been plenty of oil left over after he had fixed his hair, and so he had figured out a way to work it into his smile.”
A Lot of Trail Mix
“And in every last one of those buildings, there were women in striking outfits walking through those offices and hallways like so many tasty treats—red M&Ms in a skyscraper full of trail mix. So to speak.”
Pretty Black
“Tom swallowed, saying nothing. He thought, involuntarily and somewhat guiltily, about one of them, whose heart he personally believed to be about as black as his grandfather’s leather Bible, which was pretty black.”