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If others call you a maniac or a fool, just let them wag their tongues.

A gravely ill man was waiting for me in a village ten miles distant.

I shoved them one by one, easy as pie yet with care, just shy of mercy.

My grandfather committed my grandmother to a mental asylum.

Lebanon’s dreams of a homeland were fading with every rocket launch.

Felicia knew why he was there. He was waiting. Waiting for her.

Chess was a humiliation that hung over him like a leper’s bell.

She favoured me with an even more viciously scornful “Don’t care!”

Americans have always a kind of tenderness for cheat.

In a way she enjoyed the slow, sad feeling of letting it go.

I needed a paycheck a lot more than I needed to be kissed.

However hard you try to make amends, they will still condemn you.

On my way to the airport I hit a Christian. This was in Arkansas.

He said he had come back to the prison because it was home.

Mostly he was in a hurry, so he’d just stick it in and away we’d go.

The event was an accelerator. So much matter crashed, vaporized.

From the flight deck Gray could see home, wherever that might be.

I’m mourning in the armpits of a lover we once called a family friend.

We’ve seen the news. We know the story. How even our bodies hurt us.

When you are sixteen and sixty-five pounds, you are all shadows.

Tony’d had guns pulled on him more times than he had toes.

We are like a village here, separated from the rest of the world.

I tell him: junkies are the only people worth talking to about love.

Howard found himself dancing the merengue with a buxom Puerto Rican.

The girl marched directly up to me, glaring, and said, “You hit my dog.”

The pillow into which her face was turned muffled her voice.

Why do girls want to cheerlead? Don’t they know it objectifies women?

I do not want to fall prey to the bewitchment of my mind by language.

A Good Samaritan refused is no more good than any Bad Samaritan.

The dead children were wheeled away, covered with white sheets.