The Lost Language of Cranes: A Novel

Racism was genteel in Westport, she would later tell Eliot; it always came in an envelope.

After all, an erotic attraction to men only becomes real once it has been translated into a love for one man or for particular men.

Whoever it is that we love, that is what we are.”

the heartstrings yearn to be plucked at any cost, the soul tires of contentment, the body craves any kind of change, even decimation, even death