“Zulu, we do this quick and easy,” Ray said. “No ripping his chest apart, taking out his heart, and painting his blood across the pavement.” “Come on. I did that once, and you still won’t leave it alone.” I shrugged… — Kenya Wright Copy Share Image
“When a writer writes, it's as if she holds the sides of her chest apart, exposes her beating heart. And even though everything wants to heal, to close over and protect the heart, the writer must keep it bare, exposed.” — Helen Humphreys Copy Share Image
