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History & Politicsexpand_moreStripped we are — no mark of wealth or rank upon us. We wear our skins.
Hemorrhages, it was thought, do not appear for no reason.
Rise the Euphrates, my first novel, grew out of a feverish dream.
What does it take for a woman like you to decide to do something?
Richard Bausch
The clock kept ticking, and the investors bailed out one by one.
Like a bird with a broken wing I will smudge the line of the hopscotch.
Outside the kids play stretcher. One of them was dying between my hands.
Peter Taylor’s stories are jigsaw puzzles of nuance and suggestion.
The voyage of the best ship is a zigzag line of a hundred tacks.
It’s silly, I know, half-expecting to see Apollo playing lyre to a muse.
It was to keep us impartial and to protect us from threats and bribes.
Of the sixteen elephants, one—a lady—completely took my heart.
Beggars know to emerge when you’ve more than enough to give.
He’d reenlisted in ’64; he would not go home until the War was won.
He had dreamed of being a front-runner, someone who changed lives.
The people awakened, rose up, raged at tyrants garbed in uniforms.
“Make it look like you’re working on a nearby shelf,” Aunt Mary whispered.
We have mysterious inclinations. No one can explain it to us.
The only person I’d seen naked was my mother the night she died.
Her appearances are fleeting, a gust of air, a murmur in the night.
Poor boy, he only wanted to love some man—who knows who?
Grandma was forced to break her vow of silence only three times.
The woman perused Irwin’s request form. “You can’t go there.”
Fresh from Texas. She has the head of a girl & a serpent’s body.
Through all this the sands kept vigil, harboring blood and bones.
His thoughts swirl around him. Maybe women aren’t women anymore.
For eight weeks no one heard my voice for eight weeks no one slept.
When I cast my vote, I become just that tiny, abstract, lost, and essential.
My first memory is the day of mourning after John Lennon died.
