Louise Glück, Poems 1962-2012
Finally, in a low whisper, he said, “I think I might be a terrible person.”
For a split second I believed him—I thought he was about to confess a crime, maybe a murder. Then I realised that we all think we might be terrible people. But we only reveal this before we ask someone to love us. It is a kind of undressing.
For a split second I believed him—I thought he was about to confess a crime, maybe a murder. Then I realised that we all think we might be terrible people. But we only reveal this before we ask someone to love us. It is a kind of undressing.
| — | Miranda July, The First Bad Man (via patshit) |
The children we once were, she thought, live inside us like rings on a tree.
— Simon Van Booy, from “The Muse,” Tales of Accidental Genius: Stories (Harper Perennial, 2015)





















