“Elliot Rawley was a drinker, Cy’s mother had been right. And he was a poor drinker. One that let the demons of the bottle into his head when he tipped it back, demons that went about unloosing all the trouble… — Sarah Hall Copy Share Image
“We should not forget that when we limp away afflicted through the spirit, it is not to the factory gates or to the corporate… — Sarah Hall Copy Share Image
Those partial to drink were hiding faults and dishonesty. They were sloppy souls, even the ones with pleasant manners and fine noses. — Sarah Hall Copy Share Image
I'll tell you this, lad: A tattoo says more of a fellow looking at it than it can do of the man who's got… — Sarah Hall Copy Share Image
“We should not forget that when we limp away afflicted through the spirit, it is not to the factory gates or to the corporate… — Sarah Hall Copy Share Image
“The show brought Claudia sadness finer than any requiem or any gravestone or anything beautiful or sorrowful that she could think of. On afternoons… — Sarah Hall Copy Share Image
At night, in the garden, it occurs to you that it might have been your heart that left you as you reached the capital.… — Sarah Hall Copy Share Image
“To be comfortable inside one’s sadness is not valueless. This too will pass. All things tend towards transience, mutability. It is in such mindful… — Sarah Hall Copy Share Image
You didn’t understand what he was saying, until he kissed you. It was a kiss of such complicity, of such uncomplicated sympathy, that you… — Sarah Hall Copy Share Image
“That boy may have been born on third base but he sure as shit ain’t scored a triple.” — Sarah Hall Copy Share Image
“Personal effects: how irrelevant they are, how sad, how lost, how vagrant, without the force that gives them purpose.” — Sarah Hall Copy Share Image
People went through life like well handled jugs, collecting chips and scrapes and stains from wear and tear, from holding and pouring life. — Sarah Hall Copy Share Image
