
“Wit as thick as Tewksbury mustard.”
-William Shakespeare

“Wit as thick as Tewksbury mustard.”
-William Shakespeare
“The city is an extension not strong enough for its own weight. The final crust on the edge of a peninsula, stuck out at the edge of the ocean like a dare–the kind that you know you won’t live through but that you go for anyway because you’re young and you don’t give a shit and there’s no backing down. But the city is old. It keeps daring itself not to bury its dead.”
-Gabrielle Lucille Fuentes
“Inside the upper deck of the barge is my home, with a bed that splits apart like kindling and the rest an attic of dusty, dried up paints and paintings. Most of them I’ve turned toward the wall.”
-Paige Cooper
“There are touches like bridles you can kick away, and then there are touches that startle you into temporary submission, like the universe catching its breath: body against stunned body, mind against bright mind. A sudden snare of recognition. Wildness regarding itself.”
-Amy Bonnaffons
“Sunrise was heating the ring of the horizon
and clouds were rising like leaves.”
-Derek Walcott
“There is something feckless about a writer’s journals. They are a specialist’s document, and those who parse their pages are like grooming baboons, searching for fleas.”
-Dustin Illingworth
“A pale face like a peeled potato.”
-Natalia Ginzburg
“Wife three, it must be said, looked radiant, though it was a cold radiance like that of a blade. Treat me like an object of pity, her bearing announced, hint that I was somehow to blame, and I will cut you.”
-Sigrid Nunez

“He was very tall and strong, with a face as big as a ham — plain and pale, but intelligent and smiling.”
-Robert Louis Stevenson
“A man used to live near us in a big two-storey house. The house was of concrete, with decorated concrete blocks, and it was in a lovely ochre colour with chocolate wood facings, everything so neat and nice it look like something to eat.”
-V.S. Naipaul