He wondered, as if somehow he were able to see or hear me, whether at that very moment someone was not doing precisely that, and then experiencing the rush of joy every writer feels when finishing a novel, a happiness nothing else in life can bring, not sipping Scotch whiskey in the bathtub until the water goes cold, nor caressing a woman’s body, nor feeling the touch on the skin of the delicious breeze heralding the arrival of summer.
— Felix J. Palma, from The Map of Time
In a billowing white bedroom filled with anxious women, Laura DeLoessian, Queen of the Territories, opened her eyes.
— Stephen King and Peter Straub, from The Talisman
[“Say, will you give me a lift?” he asks the red haired man at the wheel.
“How fur ye goin?”]
“I dunno… . Pretty far.”
— John Dos Passos, from Manhattan Transfer
dream of yourself and let that be enough
— Blanca Varela, from “Family secret” (originally: Secreto de familia
), translated by The Poetry Translation Workshop.
They lock the yurt and he harnesses himself in, and because the morning is dry and warming, the sun brilliant and sky blue and the path downhill, the man is sure he has never lived a better day.
— Dave Eggers, from “Pull the Sled, Feed the Fire”
[I’ve grown, but whatever monster might be in me, it was always mine, my choice, my responsibility, my evil if you will.]
It’s what I am, and if you want excuses, come and take them.
— Mark Lawrence, from The Prince of Thorns