“This is the rotten core, the Grünewald, the nails in the hands, the needle in the arm, the trauma, the bomb, the thing after which we cannot ever write poems, the slammed door, the in-principio-erat-verbum. Very What-the-fuck. Very blood-sport. Very university historical. But don’t stop looking.”
― Grief Is the Thing with Feathers
― Grief Is the Thing with Feathers
“she was explaining to me that I had won nothing, that in the world there is nothing to win, that her life was full of varied and foolish adventures as much as mine, and that time simply slipped away without any meaning, and it was good just to see each other every so often to hear the mad sound of the brain of one echo in the mad sound of the brain of the other.”
― The Story of a New Name
― The Story of a New Name
“She went like that saint who, although she still has her head on her shoulders, is carrying it in her hands, as if it had already been cut off.”
― Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay
― Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay
“Also because I’m always saying he could quit his job if he wanted and we’ll go somewhere cheap and live on rice and beans with our kid. My husband doesn’t believe me about that last bit. And why should he? Once I spent $13 on a piece of cheese.”
― Dept. of Speculation
― Dept. of Speculation
“In what disorder we lived, how many fragments of ourselves were scattered, as if to live were to explode into splinters.”
― The Story of the Lost Child
― The Story of the Lost Child
Blake’s 2025 Year in Books
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