Sometimes I nursed starfish alive in jam jars of seawater and watched them grow back lost arms. On this day, this awful… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“His lyrical whistle beckoned me to adventure and forgetting. But I didn't want to forget. Hugging my grudge, ugly and prickly, a… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“Once, on ancient Earth, there was a human boy walking along a beach. There had just been a storm, and starfish had… — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
