EST. 2016

"He was running to the greenhouse, he was opening the door, the heat and smell of flowers were surrounding him like a cape. It was the last time he had been so simply happy, the last time he had known such uncomplicated joy. 'And here's my beautiful boy!' Luke would cry. 'Oh, Jude--I'm so happy to see you.'" (Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life)

"The bullet is already in the brain; it won’t be outrun forever, or charmed to a halt. In the end it will do its work and leave the troubled skull behind, dragging its comet’s tail of memory and hope and talent and love into the marble hall of commerce. That can’t be helped. But for now Anders can still make time. Time for the shadows to lengthen on the grass, time for the tethered dog to bark at the flying ball, time for the boy in right field to smack his sweat-blackened mitt and softly chant, They is, they is, they is." (Tobias Wolff, Bullet in the Brain)

"God loved the way humans loved one another; loved the way humans loved themselves; loved the genius on the cross who managed to do both and die knowing it." (Toni Morrison, Paradise)

"Without her glasses, my face would have been little more than a pinkish smudge among many, but she seemed to know it was me as soon as I lifted my head." (Lily King, Euphoria)

"The case comes in, or anyway it comes in to us, on a frozen dawn in the kind of closed-down January that makes you think the sun's never going to drag itself back above the horizon." (Tana French, The Trespasser)

"Yes, those were luminous September days. The afternoon light pearling, the mood alert, turned-on, compassionate." (Stephanie Danler, Sweetbitter)

"I didn't know how badly I had needed them and how I'd been waiting for them, but I endured it, my joy, don't ever forget this moment, and Simone said, 'Happy birthday, little one.'" (Stephanie Danler, Sweetbitter)

"My grandfather is Russian, he said, we never waste anything. And that, too, had made us laugh, though he was serious now as he poured, tilting the plastic flask so that the barest ribbon of liquid threaded perfectly into the carton." (Garth Greenwell, An Evening Out)

"She was dirty but what was a little dirt, I thought as I turned the latch, I should have let you in a long time ago, I said, I’m sorry... And then, because the dizziness didn’t pass or maybe because I wanted her warmth next to me, I lowered myself to the floor, I stretched myself out beside her and laid one hand on her flank. We’ll sleep, I said again, and she rolled onto her side, her stomach toward me, and placed one of her paws against my chest. It would leave a mark, I knew, I would have to scrub it out in the morning, but what did it matter, I thought as I closed my eyes, what does it matter, why not let it stay." (Garth Greenwell, An Evening Out)