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If he was going to pick me up, the least he could do was look at me.

He betook himself to the metropolis to become a literary man, of course.

Some goals: stop buying jeans. Stop being angry at mom/dad/sister.

I hang there, upside down, watching Bronwyn, her face beatific.

Even then (Colin remembers now), it felt like the end of something.

She had not anticipated that the nightstands would be an issue.

We called for the dead dog because toddlers do not understand death.

When an old man marries a young piece of flesh, she is the ruler.

“Why do we always fight,” he finally said, his voice quiet, resigned.

This is all there is. Nothing else. No heaven and no hell, okay?

The women wanted signs of regret, but she was straight shouldered.

“My brother’s last words to me were about you. Did you know that?”

It’s true, I killed my husband. I had my reasons. He was a hunter on the trail.

Xin Bao had gotten drunk and stolen a hyacinth macaw.

Ever since she believed he was cheating, she felt erotically obsessed.

Goretti was a victim perfect for her time, an icon of Catholic sexual politics.

She’d ransacked his heart the moment she unlocked the door.

Riding back from her studio, Ivy thought, I’ll just stop for a minute.

You could take your pick from an array of rebellions to consider.

He wrote and rewrote endlessly, and rose at night to reread pages.

If party isn’t what we set out to do then you should go home.

Having a sister or a friend is like sitting at night in a lighted house.

Once upon a time, a couple wandered in a glass forest, hand in hand.

our hands are full of those women tricked or transformed.

Eros, myth, life, and literature in brilliant paintings by Lincoln Perry.

For days after she left him, he roamed the house, unable to function.

We are each other’s as surely as song stitches breath to air.

I eat what’s in front of me, as all great men do. Some wouldn’t, but I do.