Closing Quotes (page 58)
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Lee saw the fireball and head through the roar in his ears Hester saying, "That's the last of 'em Lee."He said, or thought, "Those poor men didn't have to come to this, nor did we."She said, "We held 'em off. We held out. We're a-helping Lyra."Then she was pressing her little proud broken self against his face, as close as she could get, and then they died.
Philip Pullman
Coming down off the trail, I am lost in my own thoughts and unprepared when a bear chugs across the path just before it gives out on the gravel road. I am so distracted that I keep walking towards the bear. I only stop when it rears, stands on hind legs, and stares at me, sensitive nose pressed into the air, weak eyes searching. I have never been this close to a wild bear before, but I am not frightened. There is no menace in its stance; it is not even curious. The bear seems to know who or...
Louise Erdrich
It was toffee; they were advertising toffee, a nursemaid told Rezia. Together they spell t...o...f..."K...R..." said the nursemaid, and Septimus heard her say "Kay Arr" close to his ear, deeply, softly, like a mellow organ, but with a roughness in her voice like a grasshopper's, which rasped his spine deliciously and sent running up into his brain waves of sound which, concussing, broke. A marvellous discovery indeed - that the human voice in certain atmospheric conditions (for one must be...
Virginia Woolf
Next year he did not come for her. She waited in a new frock because the old one simply would not meet, but he never came."Perhaps he is ill," Michael said."You know he is never ill."Michael came close to her and whispered, with a shiver, "Perhaps there is no such person, Wendy!" and then Wendy would have cried if Michael had not been crying.
J. M. Barrie
Landscape
Isn't it plain the sheets of moss, except that
they have no tongues, could lecture
all day if they wanted about
spiritual patience? Isn't it clear
the black oaks along the path are standing
as though they were the most fragile of flowers?
Every morning I walk like this around
the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart
ever close, I am as good as dead.
Every morning, so far, I'm alive. And now
the crows break off from the rest of the darkness
and burst up into the sky—as...
Mary Oliver
