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It was the thumbprints of human imperfection that used to move him, the flaws in the design: the lopsided smile, the wart next to the navel, the mole, the bruise.
“He was born the day he first heard the song of a whale, and he has been finding ways to record them ever since. In one moment high and squeaking like the top note of a violin, in the next guttural, echoing, some space between the moan of a cow and the trumpet of an elephant. Sometimes joyous and playful, sometimes mournful and searching. Sometimes with a trill or a creak or a rumble. A question, a call, a love letter.”
― Wild Dark Shore
― Wild Dark Shore
“What has he learned? Ah yes”
― The Ferryman and His Wife
― The Ferryman and His Wife
“Can you imagine having that kind of faith?” Cyrus asked. “To be that certain of something you’ve never seen? I’m not that certain of anything. I’m not that certain of gravity.” “That certainty is what put worms in their brains”
― Martyr!
― Martyr!
“The old method for dealing with bad dreams is to tell them aloud above the toilet bowl”
― Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead
― Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead
“Living happened till it didn’t. There was no choice in it. To say no to a new day would be unthinkable. So each morning you said yes”
― Martyr!
― Martyr!
On the Southern Literary Trail
— 2205 members
— last activity May 23, 2026 02:36AM
Whether you prefer Faulkner, O'Connor, McCullers or more recent authors of Southern Literature such as Clyde Edgerton, Tom Franklin, William Gay, or M ...more
Sarah’s 2025 Year in Books
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