“For a year, Johnny lived the new, brutal truth that he was on his own. But that's the way it was. What had been concrete one day proved sand the next; strength was illusion; faith meant shit. So what? So… — John Hart Copy Share Image
“Now, she lived with her dogs in a small house by a creek in the country, and her life had become a simple thing.” — John Hart Copy Share
“The gray light was unforgiving, and the road in was a hard, fast slide to the bottom rung of the human experience.” — John Hart Copy Share
“She turned the water scalding hot and scrubbed her face until it hurt, but the eyes still looked wrong. She tore off her clothes… — John Hart Copy Share
“She had faith that each moment would be finer than the last. She believed that people were good,” — John Hart Copy Share
“I'm sixty-nine years old, and I have no plans to run for reelection. Do you think I give a damn?” — John Hart Copy Share
“For a year, Johnny lived the new, brutal truth that he was on his own. But that's the way it was. What had been… — John Hart Copy Share
Art may imitate wild nature; less often does it dare to place itself in the midst of it, and when it does, it may… — John Hart Copy Share
“as dark did with light and weakness with strength. Nothing was simple or pure;” — John Hart Copy Share
