Could You Repeat That? CXXXX

Death Dance of a Butterfly (poetry), Melba Joyce Boyd
We want the river dredged
for distraught souls.
We want our homes rebuilt.
We want the guilty
to pay a greed tax
for the living they stole.

The Urban Bestiary, Lyanda Lynn Haupt
Our crow stories bring the fullness of another animal's intelligence into our sphere--that which we see, that which we know, that which we recognize, that which science proclaims, and that which we can never know. In allowing this fullness, we allow our own intelligence to come to life--wild, rangy, riverine, sunlit.

The Walking Dead, Book Seven (graphic novel), Robert Kirkman & Charlie Adlard
MICHONNE: The single solitary good thing that came out of all this was that I didn't have to wear pant suits anymore--I thought I'd never have to dress up again.

Smoke and Pickles (cookbook), Edward Lee
Home is a place of gratitude. And good food is the best reason to say, "Thank you."

Flag in Exile, David Weber
Mercedes had her own devils, but she recognized them and had them under control. And that, Honor told herself with a familiar tinge of bitterness, was the most anyone could ask of herself.

The Vagina Monologues (Tenth Anniversary Edition), Eve Ensler
I say it because I believe that what we don't say we don't see, acknowledge, or remember. What we don't say becomes a secret, and secrets often create shame and fear and myths. I say it because I want to someday feel comfortable saying it, and not ashamed and guilty.

Q is for Quarry, Sue Grafton
She smiled, showing a row of square even teeth. Before she managed to say another word, I felt a silvery note of fear pluck at the base of my spine, like a sandcrab picking its way erratically across guitar strings.

Winter Soldier: Black Widow Hunt (graphic novel), Ed Brubaker & Butch Guice
BUCKY: Is this how you felt? When I was...lost...?
STEVE: Yeah...helpless. I'd rather take a gut punch from the Hulk.

The Broken Kingdoms, N.K. Jemisin
"You were irrelevant," he said. "Just another mortal."
I was growing used to him, I realized bitterly. That had hurt far less than I'd expected.

Dept. of Speculation, Jenny Offill
Remember this sign, this tree, this broken-down street. Remember it is possible to feel this way. There were twenty days on the calendar, then fifteen, then ten, then the day I packed my car and left. I drove the length of two states, sobbing, heat like a hand against my chest. But I didn't. I didn't remember it.

The American Plate: A Culinary History in 100 Bites, Libby H. O'Connell
Beaver tail is essentially gamey-tasting fat, with swampy overtones. However, it is not complicated to prepare if you have an open fire on hand. Then again, chances are, an open fire is not a challenge for you if you're planning on eating beaver tail.

Stone Mattress: Nine Tales, Margaret Atwood
Young Naveena can scarcely believe her luck. Her mouth's half open, she's biting the tips of her fingers, she's holding her breath. She's embedding us in amber, thinks Tin. Like ancient insects. Preserving us forever. In amber beads, in amber words. Right before our eyes.

The Bone Clocks, David Mitchell
My ten postgrads look sober. So they should.
'Art feasts upon its maker,' I tell them.

"Look the Part," Bookmark Now: Writing in Unreaderly Times, Pamela Ribon, Kevin Smoker, ed.
Three months after my father died I sold my my first novel. That's how these stories always go, right?

Redeployment, Phil Klay
We shot dogs. Not by accident. We did it on purpose, and we called it Operation Scooby. I'm a dog person, so I thought about that a lot.

A Brief History of Seven Killings, Marlon James
Put a white journalist beside him own "Stagger Lee" and your brain go bananas. Is 'cause you have no story of your own? Right, it's not about you, you're here to tell the story, not be the story. And yet still some part of me tell me that this is your story, not mine.

Wittgenstein Jr, Lars Iyer
He asks us the kind of questions that he would ask himself. Questions beyond our understanding. Questions that soar above us. Questions that graze the philosophical sky...We try to answer, but how can we? We stumble. We stutter. We say silly things. But what else does he expect?
Wittgenstein does not hide his derision.

Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, Elena Ferrante
"Why didn't you say anything? People in the factory put their hands on you?
They were tired, she decided to soothe him. She said:
"With me they don't dare."

Silence Once Begun, Jesse Ball
I went down the stairs past three broken lights and one that flickered. The door to the ground floor apartment was partly open and I could hear people laughing. Someone was singing and there was the smell of cooking.
This is what we bear, I thought, the nearness of other lives.

Everything I Never Told You, Celeste Ng
On the stairs, Hannah holds her breath. She is afraid to move anything, even a fingertip. Maybe if she stays perfectly still, her parents will stop talking. She can hold the world motionless, and everything will be all right.

An Untamed State, Roxane Gay
The day I found out I was pregnant with Christophe, I drove to a nearby hotel and checked in and paid with my credit card. I wanted to be found.

Adam, Ariel Schrag
Adam felt like grabbing the whistle, blowing it, and addressing the crowd, "Excuse me, yes, um, you're all COMPLETELY CRAZY."
But there he was, barefoot, in his leather vest and fetish mask, pretending to be a transsexual. So be it.