"And for my husband? For him I let fall into the calm, glassy waters a poem I wrote in the hospital yesterday. Finally he’ll know my feelings for him."
"For a brief moment I felt immensely sad for him, my handsome brother who had reached the height of a teenager without shedding the rounded shoulders of boyhood. His eyes reflected my pain, and for that instant we were one organism, with no separation of flesh or consciousness. And we ran as one being, The Twins, up the hill, frantic to get home."
"The world had been sad since Tuesday. Sea, and sky were a single ash-gray thing and the sands of the beach, which on March nights glimmered like powdered light, had become a stew of mud and rotten shellfish."
- Gabriel Garcia Marquez, “A very old man with enormous wings”
"The deer hunt was the end and summit of his year: the irrevocable shot, the thin, ringing silence that followed, the buck down and still, the sky like clouded marble from which sifted snow finer than dust, and the sense of a complete cycle as the cooling blood ran into the dead leaves."
- Annie Proulx, “Heart Songs and other stories: On The Antler”