pale phosphorescence

“A last pale phosphorescence in the evening light outside, over the trees; . . .”

—John Fowles, from The Ebony Tower, 1974.

An obscure vision

“An obscure vision, obscure because he dared not free it from his consciousness and examine it; he was content to half look at it, and seek no explanation.”

—Miguel Angel Asturias, from Men of Maize, translated from the Spanish by Gerry Martin, 1988.

the new fire

“Tojil, in his own natural darkness, struck the leather of his sandal with a stone, and from it, at that very moment, came a spark, then a flash, followed by a flame, and the new fire burned in all its spendour.”

—Popul Vuh: Antiguas leyendas del Quich’, translated from the Spanish by Ann Wright, 1977.

made of maize

“We believe (and this has been passed down to us by our ancestors) that our people are made of maize. We’re made of white maize and yellow maize. We must remember this.”

—Rigoberta Menchu, from I, Rigoberta Menchu: An Indian Woman in Guatemala, translated from the Spanish by Ann Wright, 1983.

We evoke the colour of the sun

“We pray to our ancestors, reciting their prayers which have been known to us for a long time—a very, very long time. . . . For the sun, we say: ‘Heart of the sky, you are our father, we ask you to give your warmth and light to our animals, our maize, our beans, our plants, so that they may grow and our children may eat.’ We evoke the colour of the sun, and this has a special importance for us because this is how we want our children to live—like a light which shines, which shines with generosity. It means a warm heart and it means strength, life-giving strength. It’s something you never lose and you find it everywhere. So when we evoke the colour of the sun, it’s like evoking all the elements which go to make up our life. . . . We must respect the one God, the heart of the sky, which is the sun.”

—Rigoberta Menchu, from I, Rigoberta Menchu: An Indian Woman in Guatemala, translated from the Spanish by Ann Wright, 1983.

Red is very significant

“The little bags round [children’s] necks and the thread used to tie their umbilical cord are both red. Red is very significant for us. It means heat, strength, all living things. It’s linked to the sun, which for us is the channel to the one god, the heart of everything, of the universe. So red gives off heat and fire and red things are supposed to give life to the child.”

—Rigoberta Menchu, from I, Rigoberta Menchu: An Indian Woman in Guatemala, translated from the Spanish by Ann Wright, 1983.

a sweet blue sky

“Pillars of gray-brown smoke from Exxon’s vast complex ventilated a sweet blue sky. Across the Mississippi River Bridge, green flatlands stretched on toward Acadiana. . . .”

—Jason Berry, Last of the Red Hot Poppas, 2006.

no-tell motel neon signs

“At Metro Airport, he paid the cabby and got in his car. . . . The dashboard went luminous as he drew a puff on his stogie, paid the attendant and glided past a string of no-tell motel neon signs.”

—Jason Berry, Last of the Red Hot Poppas, 2006.

technicolor pachyderms

“I can stand the sight of worms
And look at microscopic germs
But technicolor pachyderms
Is really too much for me”

—Pink Elephants On Parade, words and lyrics by Frank Churchill and Oliver Wallace, from Disney’s Dumbo, 1941.

big black car

“We would go on between the fields until we hit a town. The houses would be lined up along the street, under the trees, with their lights going out now, until we hit the main street, where the lights would be bright around the doorway of the movie house and the bugs would be zooming against the bulbs and would ricochet off to hit the concrete pavement and make a dry crunch when somebody stepped on them. The men standing in front of the pool hall would look up and see the big black crate ghost down the street and one of them would spit on the concrete and say, “The bastard, he reckins he’s somebody,” and wish that he was in a big black car, as big as a hearse and the springs soft as mamma’s breast and the engine breathing without a rustle at seventy-five, going off into the dark somewhere. Well, I was going somewhere. I was going back to Burden’s Landing.”

—Robert Penn Warren, All the King’s Men, 1946.