The following night she came to his bed and she came every night for nine nights running, pushing the door shut and latching it and turning in the slatted light at God knew what hour and stepping out...
Creative work is often driven by pain. It may be that if you don't have something in the back of your head driving you nuts, you may not do anything. It's not a good arrangement. If I were God, I woul...
His head was pounding and his vision skewed in some way and he was vaguely amazed at being alive and not sure that it was worth it.
The priest therefore saw what the anchorite could not. That God needs no witness. Neither to himself nor against. The truth is rather that if there were no God then there could be no witness for there...
It howled execration upon the dim camarine world of its nativity wail on wail while he lay there gibbering with palsied jawhasps, his hands putting back the night like some witless Paraclete beleaguer...
Even in this world, more things exist without our knowledge than with it and the order in creation which you see is that which you have put there, like a string in a maze, so that you shall not lose y...
The storm front towered above them and the wind was cool on their sweating faces. They slumped bleary-eyed in their saddles and looked at one another. Shrouded in the black thunderheads the distant li...
Inside the house there was no sound save the ticking of the mantel clock in the front room. He went out and shut the door.Dark and cold and no wind and a thin gray reef beginning along the easternrim...
He stood at the window of the empty cafe and watched the activites in the square and he said that it was good that God kept the truths of life from the young as they were starting out or else they'd h...
You know that the things you put it your head stay there, right?''Yeah. But you remember some things, don't you?''Yeah. You remember the things you want to forget and forget the things you want to rem...
Ella se marchó y la frialdad de la partida fue su regalo final. Lo haría con una hojuela de obsidiana. Él mismo le había enseñado cómo. Más afilada que el acero. El borde de un grosor de átomo. Y ella...
Every day is a lie, he said. But you are dying. That is not a lie.
Pe-acest drum nu mai e nici un suflet de om de la care să auzi vorba Domnului. S-au dus, iar eu am rămas și ei au luat cu ei lumea. Întrebare: prin ce se deosebește ce nu va fi niciodată de ce nu a fo...
It was a lone tree burning on the desert. A heraldic tree that the passing storm had left afire. The solitary pilgrim drawn up before it had traveled far to be here and he knelt in the hot sand and he...
If a dream can tell the future it can also thwart that future. For God will not permit that we shall know what is to come. He is bound to no one that the world unfold just so upon its course and those...
He rose and turned toward the lights of town. The tidepools bright as smelterpots among the dark rocks where the phosphorescent seacrabs clambered back. Passing through the salt grass he looked back....
He leaned forward and began to count off on the fingers of the hand that held the cigarette: She aint American. She aint a citizen. She dont speak english. She works in a whorehouse. No, hear me out....
Sorry. Don't need sorry. Not in this house. Sorry laid the hearth here. Sorry ways and sorry people and heavensent grief and heartache to make you pine for your death.
He watched him stoke the flames, God's own firedrake. The sparks rushed upward and died in the starless dark. Not all dying words are true and this blessing is no less real for being shorn of its grou...
He lay listening to the water drip in the woods. Bedrock, this. The cold and the silence. The ashes of the late world carried on the bleak and temporal winds to and fro in the void. Carried forth and...
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