Rita Leganski holds an MA in writing and publishing and a BA in literary studies and creative writing from DePaul University. She teaches a writing workshop at DePaul's School for New Learning and was a recipient of the Arthur Weinberg Memorial Prize for a work of historical fiction.
“The fire sings to the marshmallow, and the song turns the marshmallow brown because that's what marshmallows do when they're happy.”
“The mind can take in many things, but it cannot take in God.”
“Love transcended loss long enough for them to find that the depth of feeling is best known in silence, because in the presence of such love words are never quite enough.”
“She did not believe in random. God does not deal in random.”
“She opened her heart and her home to her Purpose, and waited for it to come in.”
“The mirror done broke and your life looking back at you from them sharp glass pieces.”
“Please God, please God, can you please tell me why? I ask this of you, yet in my heart, I know.”
“Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa”—my fault, my fault, my most grievous fault—as she pounded her fist to her chest three times as if pounding shut a door to keep her guilt from escaping.”
“Before long the formed into a circle, and neither of them could imagine being a straight line again, caught in the loneliness of blunt severed ends.”
“Their hands never touched, not even in an accidental brushing, and that was a good thing, for real intimacy has a dawn.”
“The could never have explained Bonaventure anyway because there is no scientific word for miraculous.”