My wish had no words, but it smelled of fennel.
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My wish had no words, but it smelled of fennel.
Witchmark by CL Polk
in their silences there had been a form of love.
Snow Hunters by Paul Yoon
It was how he would spell his name; he would use those letters the doctor had imagined for him and call them his own.
Snow Hunters by Paul Yoon
It was as though the world he saw cracked, revealing memories he had forgotten.
Snow Hunters by Paul Yoon
All the sounds of the waking city seemed to rise toward the sky, dissipating as the rain fell.
Snow Hunters by Paul Yoon
Moonlight kept them company, the way it leaked through the timber walls and shifted across them as the hours passed.
Snow Hunters by Paul Yoon
She prayed and her prayer was monstrous because in it there was no margin left for damnation or forgiveness, for praise or for blame - those who cannot conceive a bargain cannot be saved or damned.
Nightwood by Djuna Barnes
Shows typically include spanking, flagellation, shaving, branding, laceration, bondage, humiliation, wrestling - you know, the usual: amateur, everyday practitioners strutting for everyone else’s gratification, not unlike an academic conference
“Sex in Public” by Lauren Berlant and Michael Warner
Respectable gays like to think that they owe nothing to the sexual subculture they think of as sleazy. But their success, their way of living, their political rights, and their very identities would never have been possible but for the existence of the public sexual culture they now despise. Extinguish it, and almost all out gay or queer culture will wither on the vine.
“Sex in Public” by Lauren Berlant and Michael Warner
Queer and other insurgents have long striven, often dangerously or scandalously, to cultivate what good folks used to call criminal intimacies
“Sex in Public” by Lauren Berlant and Michael Warner
to construct the architecture of queer space in a homophobic environment
“Sex in Public” by Lauren Berlant and Michael Warner
You people who not only love books but suffer from a mania for them
The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas by Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis
His will is curious more than ruthless.
Warlight by Michael Ondaatje
perhaps some small anarchy he glimpsed in them
Warlight by Michael Ondaatje
It was the hour with that tense new light that Marsh Felon now began searching for
Warlight by Michael Ondaatje
You return to that earlier time armed with the present
Warlight by Michael Ondaatje
"Wow," I say. "Please don't say 'Wow.' You were only in America a few months." "It's an expressive word."
Warlight by Michael Ondaatje