124 WAS SPITEFUL. Full of a baby’s venom. The women in the house knew it and so did the children. For.
The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit, so when they broke its back, or shoved it in a croaker sack, well, maybe you’d have a little love left over for the next one.
Don’t love her too much. Don’t. Maybe it’s still in her the thing that makes it all right to kill her children. I have to tell her. I have to protect her.
She floated near but outside her own body, feeling vague and intense at the same time. Needing nothing. Being what there was.
Before and since, all her effort was directed not on avoiding pain but on getting through it as quickly as possible.
Now they will rest before shouldering the endless work they were created to do down here in paradise.
I like the way the City makes people think they can do what they want and get away with it.
She is not so afraid at night because she is the color of it.
Didn’t everything on God’s earth have or acquire defense?
I must confess, though, that I sometimes lose interest in the characters and get much more interested in the trees and animals. I think I exercise tremendous restraint in this, but my editor says, ‘Would you stop this beauty business.’ And I say, ‘Wait, wait until I tell you about these ants.
You always end up back where you started: hungry for the one thing everybody loses – young loving.
They were solitary little girls whose loneliness was so profound it intoxicated them and sent them stumbling into Technicolored visions that always included a presence, a someone, who, quite like the dreamer, shared the delight of the dream.
When we trip and fall down they glance at us; if we cut or bruise ourselves, they ask us are we crazy. When we catch colds, they shake their heads in disgust at our lack of consideration. How, they ask us, do you expect anybody to get anything done if you all are sick? We cannot answer them. Our illness is treated with contempt, foul Black Draught, and castor oil that blunts our minds.
As in the case of many misanthropes, his disdain for people led him into a profession designed to serve them.
Whitepeople believed that whatever the manners, under every dark skin was a jungle.
He dragged her under him and made love to her with the steadiness and the intensity of a man about to leave for Dayton.
God take what He would,” she said. And He did, and He did, and He did.
He talking Louisiana, you speaking Tennessee. The music so different, the sound coming from a different part of the body. It must of been like hearing lyrics set to scores by two different composers. But when you made love he must of have said I love you and you understood that and it was true, too, because I have seen the desperation in his eyes ever since – no matter what business venture he thinks up.
No matter what all your teeth and wet fingers anticipated, there was no accounting for the way that simple joy could shake you. How loose the silk. How fine and loose and free. DENVER’S SECRETS were sweet.
And no, they ain’t in love with your mouth. Yonder, out there, they will see it broken and break it again. What you say out of it they will not heed. What you scream from it they do not hear. What you put into it to nourish your body they will snatch away and give you leavins instead. No, they don’t love your mouth. You got to love it. This.