“He gazed intently at a sheet of paper, breath suspended, a word on the quivering point of his pen poised and waiting to fall. Monoliths of books and manuscripts rose around him. All were crammed with words; words packed as… — Patricia McKillip Copy Share Image
“She had begun to bake to have her eyes looking at a bowl, a flour bin, an oven, a fire, a face, anything but water. Her hands shaped loaves like scallop shells, like moon shells, like starfish; she ate them as if she ate the sea, to make it part of her, to transform bone to shell and lose herself… — Patricia McKillip Copy Share
“He gazed intently at a sheet of paper, breath suspended, a word on the quivering point of his pen poised and waiting to fall.… — Patricia McKillip Copy Share Image
