“Just as you cannot wave your hands and reappear in your simple life before coming here, so you cannot merely clap them… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
In life, a person will come and go from many homes. We may leave a house, a town, a room, but that… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
“Most people give little enough real thought to their own mortality. Oh yes, they gabble on about heaven and the bosom of… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
The hours must be endured and those who cannot do so in life will most surely do so in death. You say… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
“When we change the shape of the Land, we alter the contents and contexts of our collective, familial, and personal memories. Yet, stories can… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
“Here were love letters, the youth knew. Secret love letters. Unfound, still waiting somewhere beyond the mist. A young man’s words for this girl,… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
“The day his dad didn’t come home, it was like a huge window over their heads had shattered, and every day they were walking… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
“It was a stalemate Silas was willing to live with, and apparently, so was his mother. They both knew it wasn’t about the hem… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
“Little things like time and generations don’t matter very much with good friends who are fond of each other’s company.” — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
“He passed his hands over some of the fine embossed bindings as he thought, I am a book also, words and thoughts and stories… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
“Just as you cannot wave your hands and reappear in your simple life before coming here, so you cannot merely clap them to wake… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
“He just couldn’t be with people. There were a few kids he sometimes spoke with at school—at lunch, or walking home—but months ago even… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
“What is it about traveling by night that makes even a short journey strange and a little wonderful? Momentary lights appear and pass across… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
“Here, in this house, her recollections glowed like embers on the hearth, and each night, in their warmth, she’d take a memory or two… — Ari Berk Copy Share Image
