Laura Beth Harris

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Book cover for Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver
Things! Burn them, burn them! Make a beautiful fire! More room in your heart for love, for the trees! For the birds who own nothing—the reason they can fly.
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Hernan Diaz
“I know the days ahead of me are fewer than those I have left behind. There is no escaping this most basic fact of accounting. A certain amount of time is allotted to each of us. How much, only God knows. We cannot invest it. We cannot hope for a return of any kind. All we can do is spend it, second by second, decade by decade, until it runs out. Still, even if our days on this Earth are limited, we can always, through toil and industry, hope to extend our influence into the future. And so it is that, having lived my life with an eye set on posterity in the hopes of improving the lives of later generations, I enter these remaining years of mine not with nostalgia for all that is gone but with a sense of excitement for what is yet to come.”
Hernan Diaz, Trust

Rachel Cusk
“So much power lies in the ability to see how willing other people are to give it to you.”
Rachel Cusk, Second Place

Hernan Diaz
“Each time we find a way to minimize our effort and increase our gain we are making a business deal, even if it is with ourselves. These negotiations are so ingrained in our routine that they are barely noticeable. But the truth is our existence revolves around profit.”
Hernan Diaz, Trust

Rachel Cusk
“Most people prefer to take care of themselves before they take care of the truth, and then wonder where their talent has disappeared off to.”
Rachel Cusk, Second Place

Quiara Alegría Hudes
“My girlish body hadn't accrued much character. There were no hard knocks or tall tales writ on my flesh, no scars or distinguishing marks beyond freckles. All us young'uns were blank canvases, awaiting life's paintbrush. I had Cuca's flat butt and mom's water-jug belly, but no real narrative you could read on my curves. That's what made me a girl. One day I would be a woman whose body told tales, and I would show them to other women with equally epic, if distinctly shaped, bodies as a younger generation beheld with awe. This would be my defiant adulthood. The messy book of womanhood's flesh was something to
aspire to.”
Quiara Alegría Hudes, My Broken Language

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