Luce

“Lips that have tasted the salt of tears always give the sweetest kiss.”
― C.J. Carlyon, The Cherry House

“We have a bad habit of seeing books as sort of cheaply made movies where the words do nothing but create visual narratives in our heads.

So too often what passes for literary criticism is "I couldn't picture that guy", or "I liked that part", or "this part shouldn't have happened." That is, we've left language so far behind that sometimes we judge quality solely based on a story's actions.

So we can appreciate a novel that constructs its conflicts primarily through plot - the layered ambiguity of a fatal car accident caused by a vehicle owned by Gatsby but driven by someone else, for instance. But in this image-drenched world, sometimes we struggle to appreciate and celebrate books where the quality arises not exclusively from plot but also from the language itself.”
― John Green

“He smirks, shaking his head and letting his eyes wander. I watch him carefully, wondering what I can say to get him to leave. “I’m not leaving until you answer some questions. Plus, I’m holding your sketchbook hostage, so you might want to cooperate.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. I guess there isn’t much I can say. “This isn’t a hostage negotiation.”

He chuckles half-heartedly as his eyes take me in, almost sizing me up. “I guess I should introduce myself.” He holds a hand out for me to shake. “I’m Nathan.”

I stare at his hand for a moment. “Taylor,” I reply, meeting his eyes again without taking his hand.

He lets his hand fall back to his side. “At least I got you to say something non-hostile.”

“I haven’t been hostile,” I object.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, haven’t you?”

“Why don’t you leave me alone?” I snap. “Leave and don’t come back.” I move passed him, heading for my apartment. He can’t follow and annoy me if I lock the door.

“Where are you going?” he demands. I look back over my shoulder and roll my eyes at him, indicating the answer should be obvious: anywhere he isn’t. Once inside, I slam the door behind me.

“That was totally not hostile!” he calls after me, sarcastically. I quickly head for my bedroom door, slamming it, too.”
― Ashley Earley, Alone in Paris

“I felt so lonesome, all of a sudden. I almost wished I was dead.”
― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye