look up, right over there, see the eagle flying low and fast down Curlew Street? Watch: as he sails over the grocery store he whirls and snatches a whirling piece of cardboard, and he flapflopflaps down the street triumphantly, big as a tent, you can almost hear him thinking I am one bad-ass flying machine, this weird flat brown bird didn’t get away from me, no sir, nothing can elude my lightning deftness in the air …
and so many more stories, all changing by the minute, all swirling and braiding and weaving and spinning and stitching themselves one to another and to the stories of creatures in that place, both the quick sharp-eyed ones and the rooted green ones and the ones underground and the ones too small to see, and to stories that used to be here, and still are here in ways that you can sense sometimes if you listen with your belly, and the first green shoots of stories that will be told in years to come—so many stories braided and woven and interstitched and leading one to another like spider strands ...more
Her eyes are brown and green and when she is angry the green parts of her eyes flash like fish leaping in a river.
someone who rated the book a one offered this as an example of ridiculously bad writing. i can't decide whether it's good, atrocious, or neither.
It is good enough to make me think about her eyes, although I could not visualize the fish leaping, as they turn black, white and silver in my mind, which was able to convert the leaping fish to the…
Green fish are leaping furiously in her eyes.
He makes friends easily because he likes to listen and he is almost always cheerful, even with girls. He thinks about girls all the time. He likes to ride his bike in the woods as fast as he can go.
because she packed a suitcase two years ago and walked out the door without a word. The suitcase was enormous. It was far too big for her to carry. The sound of it being dragged down the gravel driveway will stay with Grace and her brothers for ever and ever and ever.
your daddy has been a capering fox every minute since
and soon after that we were trading salty kisses in our own language her long hair whirling around us like the salty arms of the salty sea.
There is no real love without fascination.
[Who are you?]
Moses, who had been taught to speak by a shy nun who found him broken in the mud, is intricately courteous and circumspect; also he has a dry humor and a corvidian cast of mind, as he likes to say, that combine to make his remarks intriguing.
A man’s hipbones are handles for his woman’s hands.
He loves opera and his favorite opera of all is Puccini’s Tosca, which he knows by heart and plays constantly in the car. She thinks secretly that he will leave her because she is not exciting.
here i think the back and forth works better than with the father-daughter passage a few pages ago, because of the language being parallel--he said... she said...