“DEAD FLIES ON THE SILLS OF sunny windows, weeds along the pathway, the kitchen empty. The house was melancholy, deceiving; it was like a cathedral where, amid the serenity, something is false, the saints are made of florist’s wax, the… — James Salter Copy Share Image
“Suttree ducked the yardlong coil of dead flies that hung from the ceiling and came to the counter with his purchases.” — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
