D. A. Hosek

Category: writing

  • Beautiful Sentences: Jac Jemc

    She filled her clothes the way one fills one’s skin: exactly. Jac Jemc, My Only Wife.

  • Beautiful Sentences: Deborah A. Lott

    In those days my unconscious seemed powerful and mysterious, and I could never tell whether it was moving me towards self-destruction or self-preservation. Deborah A. Lott, “The Daddy Cure.”

  • Beautiful Sentences: Hilary Mantel

    There cannot be new things in England. There can be old things freshly presented, or new things that pretend to be old. To be trusted, new men must forge themselves an ancient pedigree, like Walter’s, or enter into the service of ancient families. Don’t try to go it alone, or they’ll think you’re pirates. Hilary…

  • Beautiful Sentences: Rabih Alameddine

    There are two kinds of people in this world: people who want to be desired, and people who want to be desired so much that they pretend they don’t. Rabih Alameddine, An Unnecessary Woman.

  • Beautiful Sentences: Hilary Mantel

    But she’s turned her face away and she’s crying. She’s not crying for him, because nobody, he thinks, will ever cry for him. God didn’t cut him out that way. She’s crying for her idea of what life should be like: Sunday after church, all the sisters, sisters-in-law, wives kissing and patting, swatting at each…

  • Beautiful Sentences: Rabih Alameddine

    My body is full of sentences and moments, my heart resplendent with lovely turns of phrases, but neither is able to be touched by another. Rabih Alameddine, An Unnecessary Woman.

  • Beautiful Sentences: Ford Madox Ford

    I console myself with thinking that this is a real story and that, after all, real stories are probably told best in the way a person telling a story would tell them. They will then seem more real. Ford Madox Ford, The Good Soldier.

  • Beautiful Sentences: Pete Dexter

    All the things she read in Raymond Chandler’s books about being hit, he’d never mentioned how heavy it felt. Pete Dexter, Paris Trout. 

  • Beautiful Sentences: Ford Madox Ford

    His face hitherto had, in the wonderful English fashion, expressed nothing whatever. Nothing. There was in it neither joy nor despair; neither hope nor fear; neither boredom nor satisfaction. He seemed to perceive no soul in that crowded room; he might have been walking in a jungle. I never came across such a perfect expression…