“She wished it were evening now, wished for the great relief of the calendar inking itself out, of day done and night coming, of ice cubes knocking about in a glass beneath the whisky spilling in, that fine brown affirmation… — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share Image
“She wished it were evening now, wished for the great relief of the calendar inking itself out, of day done and night coming, of… — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share Image
“But then again, that's what the Book of Job was about to her, a cautionary tale about wanting there to be a God, wanting there to be someone who could enact what a God could enact, or who could sanction what the Devil would do. You want this, people? You want these kinds of powers? No, you don't, and here's… — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share
“For all her culture's attention to the physical, it seemingly has little to salve the creatural anguish of losing someone else's body, their touch,… — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share Image
“She has been surprised by grief, its constancy, its immediacy, its unrelenting physical pain.” — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share Image
“...she imagines her body curled in the narrow monk's bed, knees to chin, her own irrefutable geography, but she sees the blood of her… — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share Image
“Wandering is better than place sometimes, than home, than destination. Sometimes she can eke out the idea that wandering is possibility, chance, serendipity--he might… — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share Image
