“In April, he perched on a witch hazel branch, shivering, one eye closed, waiting for the sun to warm his wings. The night had been particularly cold, the winter long, the fishing scarce. He'd been alone all the time. When… — Brad Kessler Copy Share Image
“She'd observed this before: how -- ironically -- it took death to make one feel momentarily alive, truly present, minute to minute.” — Brad Kessler Copy Share Image
“In April, he perched on a witch hazel branch, shivering, one eye closed, waiting for the sun to warm his wings. The night had… — Brad Kessler Copy Share Image
“A book is like a key that fits into the tumbler of the soul. The two parts have to match in order for each… — Brad Kessler Copy Share Image
