Dark of the invisible moon. The night now only slightly less black. By day the banished sun circles the earth like a grieving mother with a lamp.
Well, I guess in all honesty I would have to say that I never knew nor did I ever hear of anybody that money didnt change.
The space which [books] occupied was itself an expectation.
He prayed: Almighty God, if it aint too far out of the way of things in your eternal plan do you reckon we could have a little rain down here. Pray it up, some called, and kneeling he cried out among...
There’s little equity in the Lord’s gifts.
Where in this pukehole can a man get a drink? he said
By the time I was sixteen I had read many books and I had become a freethinker.
The razorous shoulder blades sawing under the pale skin.
We wouldnt ever eat anybody, would we?No. Of course not.Even if we were starving?We're starving now.You said we werent.I said we werent dying. I didnt say we werent starving.But we wouldnt.No. We woul...
Whatever exists, he said. Whatever in creation exists without my knowledge exists without my consent.He looked about at the dark forest in which they were bivouacked. He nodded toward the specimens he...
What you alter in the remembering has yet a reality, known or not.
What loomed was a flayed man with his brisket tacked open like a cooling beef and his skull peeled, blue and bulbous and palely luminescent, black grots his eyeholes and bloody mouth gaped tongueless....
Truth has no temperature.
They walked on into the dark and they slept like dogs in the sand and had been sleeping so when something black flapped up out of the night ground and perched on Sproule's chest. Fine fingerbones stay...
This is the nature of war, whose stake is at once the game and the authority and the justification. Seen so, war is the truest form of divination. It is the testing of one's will and the will of anoth...
This is what Great Art does. It becomes more real than the real, more true than the truth.
I think the notion that the species can be improved in some way, that everyone could live in harmony, is a really dangerous idea. Those who are afflicted with this notion are the first ones to give up...
To watch these things issuing from the otherwise mute pastoral morning is a man at the barn door. He is small, unclean, unshaven. He moves in the dry chaff among the dust and slats of sunlight with a...
Look around you. Ever is a long time. But the boy knew what he knew. That ever is no time at all.
What business is it of yours where I'm from, friendo?
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