Emma Richler

“I love your loins, that's all,' Rachel says quietly. 'And now I love the word itself, and how words change, I love that too. And all the parts of you, I love them. That's all. And I'm not sad,' she whispers, gasping a little at the shock of her own tears, hot and extravagant, tears that catch the light in her lashes before they drop and roll across Zach's thighs, sparkling capsules, kaleidoscopic, the flow dynamic.”

“You know how there are words that never really—they are never really quite right. You can't quite trust them. Use them. You know. Without p”

“I need to tell you a story.'What”

“Hopes are so well constructed, so monstrously dashed!”

“I need to tell you a story, a tale of fate and emergence.”