The Whole World Knows

1 use

She far from acknowledged pain—anything but sorrow and pain.†

1 use

My instinct is always quick and ardent and hungry and doesn't lose any time.†

1 use

I was reading her lips, the conscientious way people do through train windows.†

1 use

To me ambition's always been a mystery, but now it was his try to deceive us—me and him both.†

1 use

Her hand never deviated, never shook from the noise.†

1 use

She was disarrayed.†

1 use

In our room, her voice would go low and soft to complete disparagement.†

1 use

I looked down through the yard and the usual crowd seemed to have dwindled a little, I could not think who was out.†

1 use

Just as unharmed as bubbles a child blows, the most impervious things—you've seen grass blades go through bubbles and they still reflect the world, give it back unbroken.†

1 use

If some indelible red false-fronts joined one to the other like a little toy train went by, I didn't think of my childhood any more.†

1 use

I felt light-headed, not serious at all, really doing it for a child when I lifted my mallet—the one with the red band that had always been mine.†

1 use

High up on the ramparts of town some old iron bells were ringing.†

1 use

Nobody was inside but the barkeep—a silent, relegated place like a barn, old and tired.†

3 uses

God help me, the name Sojourner was laid on my head like the top teetering crown of a pile of things to remember.†

1 use

She would get stupefied for sleep.†