Afterwards, in bed with a book, the spell of television feels remote compared to the journey into the page. To be in a book. To slip into the crease where two pages meet, to live in the place where yo...
Freedom consists of being insulated from the envy and ignorance of the unimportant people who temporarily surround her.
You're not bad ... you're just lost.I know exactly where I am. That doesn't mean you're not lost.
She is why purgatory was invented.
Writing. Opening a vein in your wrist with a spoon.
Tues. April 16 - Coney Island! Ate only pink things. Threw up. It was worth it.
Under a smoky streetlamp I stood face to face with my beloved and pricked my fingers against the diamond studs of her immaculate shirt front. Being tall, she slipped her hands naturally about my hips...
To believe and yet to have no hope is to thirst beside a fountain.
Kathleen is truly and utterly and completely Kathleen in New York. That's what the city does for you if it's meant for you.
She's no lady. Her songs are all unbelievably unhappy or lewd. It's called Blues. She sings about sore feet, sexual relations, baked goods, killing your lover, being broke, men called Daddy, women who...
James could do all this because he had made a bargain with himself: he wouldn't try to get killed, nor would he try to survive. He could do all this because he felt terribly sorry for the men he rescu...
Memory plays tricks. Memory is another word for story, and nothing is more unreliable.
Then she kissed me in that way that makes me hate time.
As time went by, it mattered less and less that in 1969 a rocket went from Florida to the moon and men walked there. Good men. People's dads. Those were only events, scattered in time. Draw them close...
One heck of a middle C today. Felt like I was gorging on a chocolate eclair. Kaiser none too pleased - after all, I'm a soprano. Sopranos don't sing in chocolate.
I thought I would get calmer, surer, but each time we come close I feel almost sick at first. As though each time vibrates with the times before. I feel a terrible sorrow coming up my throat, I don't...
Lies like that are not a sin, they are a sacrifice.
Memory plays tricks. Memory is another word for story, and nothing is more unreliable. Ann-Marie MacDonald, Fall on Your Knees
He felt, before he learned anything about where she came from, that the photographhad made them one.
Perhaps God dropped them on their heads before they were born.
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