Dara S.

“...I had deliberately let the relationship with Schulz wane until there was little left. We had been like the hot chocolate they sell at ski resorts. For your buck fifty, a machine first spews dark, thick syrup into a cup. This liquid gradually turns to a mixture of chocolate and hot water. Soon there is just a stream of hot water, and in a moment, drops. You wish the chocolate part would go on gushing forever, but it doesn't.”
― Diane Mott Davidson, Dying for Chocolate

“A library is a hospital for the mind.”
― Random House

“Passing sandbags is a personal thing. You're face-to-face with the person passing you the bag, as well as the person to whom you pass the bag. The line may be three hundred feet long. But it's not long for each individual. It's an intimate thing. A three-person activity. You take. You turn. You give. There is no doubt it's personal. And you get to know people. Not through conversation. But by the way they hand you the bag. The way they work. On some levels, it's a better relationship than any other I've had. There's no second-guessing. No petty games. The person receiving the bag doesn't need to ask you to receive it and the person giving you the bag doesn't expect anything in return...”
― Joe Blair, By the Iowa Sea: A Memoir

“If you want, Deb, I will be your shore. I will be worn away. Gladly. And everything you take from me will be my blessing. Oh, I have missed you! And now every mile we walk out to the jetty and back, out to the point, out to that abandoned bench in Rockport where the slats are falling off, the rusting railing, the crumbling granite seawall (myself) while you wash me over again and again--will be my blessing. My blessing. My blessing. I am awake now. I cannot fly. Not in this world. I cannot fly. I can endure for a while if you are with me.”
― Joe Blair, By the Iowa Sea: A Memoir