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Leo Heyen

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“Clarissa would have been three or four, in a house to which she would never return, about which she retains no recollection except this, utterly distinct, clearer than some things that happened yesterday: a branch tapping at a window as the sound of horns began; as if the tree, being unsettled by wind, had somehow caused the music. It seems that at that moment she began to inhabit the world; to understand the promises implied by an order larger than human happiness, though it contained human happiness along with every other emotion. The branch and the music matter more to her than do all the books in the store window.”
― Michael Cunningham, The Hours

3 likes

“I’m just keeping the faith. I continue to eat well, take turmeric, cayenne pepper, milk and honey, and exercise my eye muscles frequently.”
― Traci Medford-Rosow, Unblinded: One Man's Courageous Journey Through Darkness to Sight

175 likes

“He grabbed at Rupert’s earphones and gave his colleague a very serious look. ‘What do you know about share dealing?’
Rupert placed a finger on his chin and mulled over the question with a studious look. ‘Now you come to mention it,’ he said, ‘I know absolutely nothing.’
Norman grabbed his arm and began dragging his bewildered companion to the nearest lift. ‘Then we need to find out, and find out fast.”
― A.R. Merrydew, Our Blue Orange

tags: creature, dystopian, fiction, gripping, humour, mystery, plot-turns, sci-fi, unexpected

130 likes

“As a child, we sang those precious songs at church and school. At home, we sang along with the singers on the Lawrence Welk Christmas show, and there used to be so many Christmas specials—Andy Williams and Perry Como. I loved the bouncing ball on the Mitch Miller sing-along show. And of course, we watched “The Ed Sullivan Show” weekly and loved his Christmas special. I never grew tired of them.”
― Larada Horner-Miller, Hair on Fire: A Heartwarming & Humorous Christmas Memoir

tags: celebration, childhood-memories, delightful, fun, journey, memoir, miracle, pine-tree, treasure-trove, warmth

19 likes

“The cold buried deep inside the bones of her hands, her feet, her head, her back…everywhere. Viola felt old, chilled, and exflunctified. She brushed away her snow-white hair and with gnarled fingers tried tucking it under the black, lacy, silk nightcap that her great niece Annie had sewn for her. Each day, her clothes consisted of a long, white, embroidered nightgown, and a soft, warm, lavender sontag with the hair brooch secured upon her left shoulder. The few pleasures she had since she could no longer see were those of having mail or newspaper stories read to her by relatives who took turns caring for her. She could not tolerate people or activity. Food and drink were tasteless. Although the family made many attempts at a tray of concoctions for her each day, she had just quit eating. She remained closed in her bedroom in this dizzy age, propped in bed, eyes shut with her memories. “Who knew I would live this long?”
― Sheridan Brown, The Viola Factor