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As a symbol of the past—all sadness and humility—my mother’s face swims up and rises before my eyes. Her eyes two black abysses, anguish peering from them; her lips moist and rosy, a smile always…
They buried her into the darkness itself. As Miko was leaving the cemetery an old Jew took him by the hand. The man called out to his wife from the door: “I’ve brought him home . . . I couldn’t…
Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the poor.
—Thomas Gray, “Elegy Written in a…
Bernardo Tzalkin stood there as though he had just been drenched with a bucket of cold water. Perplexed, at a loss for words, he tried to ask the doctor whether the boy could possibly get out of bed…
The alphabet doesn’t have enough letters, you say, to form the names of so many inexpressible feelings, unexpressed for lack of words, and I say to you that we don’t have enough life, that too much…
Murray:People fall into two distinct categories. Miss Markowitz; people who like delicatessen, and people who don’t like delicatessen. A man who is not touched by the earthy lyricism of hot…
There is much I cannot tell you. I am not going to be autobiographical. I want to be “bio.”
I write with the flow of the words.
Before the appearance of the mirror, the person didn’t know his own face…
[…] Didn’t she go to all the weddings in the neighbourhood? All that she got wind of, anyhow, and that were big enough for the dance to be given in a hall or a synagogue basement. A lot of them took…
Even after the crowd had dispersed, I couldn’t bring myself to leave the Tsirkin farm. The longer I stood watching, the more stagnant the clear water grew, forming a green nightmare of slime before my…
Menashe Chaim rends his life, and she remains another’s wife. A man holds the keys to his fate in his hand, and a parable sublime and grand. His broken thoughts stumble as death draws near…