Library Life: Displays and Events 2024-25

I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974.

 

Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.

 

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.

 

Someone must have slandered Josef K., for one morning, without having done anything truly wrong, he was arrested. 

 

Mother died today.

 

Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu.

 

There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it.

 

Once upon a time, there was a woman who discovered she had turned into the wrong person. 

 

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.

 

"To be born again," sang Gibreel Farishta tumbling from the heavens, "first you have to die."

 

It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York.

 

"Take my camel, dear," said my Aunt Dot, as she climbed down from this animal on her return from High Mass.

 

Justice?—You get justice in the next world, in this world you have the law.

 

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. 

 

It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night, and the voice on the other end asking for someone he was not.