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I snapped my leg in two and lost the summer—six months on crutches and I’d be lucky if I didn’t limp for the rest of my life. I went to the ground for a slide tackle in a pickup soccer game and felt what turned out to be my tibia shoot through my skin.This was i…
The Paris Review promotes the most exciting writers of the day and supports inquisitive readers the world over.
“The final category is ‘horny.’ After that, everyone goes home.”
“clink: we sipped champagne out of handblown Venetian glass
flutes, spread black
caviar on blinis—glimmering ice, glimmering water”
“This is a hard thing to say, but it’s absolutely true—when I think of the men I’ve been with, every one of them stood between me and my writing.”
Blondell Cummings’s dance is an invitation inside, into a conversation that is both private and familiar.
“Is your friend as pretty as you are? he asks. She’s a white girl, she answers. He tells her all white women look the same.”
Early Saturday afternoon the man who had introduced himself as Oliver took Ginny to several shops on Madison Avenue above 70th Street
“Had he not grieved so deeply,
he never would have grown into the comedian he did”