He had visited his family the evening before, eaten dinner with Renee and Chris, his grandson, in the pretence that everything was ordinary, but in fact to service his end-game ruse. He was going over...
When it's time to confess, you don't know what you're saying. Are you telling the truth, or do you confuse your lies with reality? The question is comical. The answer is lost in the maelstroms of cons...
His cynicism - a veteran's cynicism - was a thing that disturbed him all the time. It seemed to him after the war that the world was thoroughly altered. It was not even a thing you could explain to an...
He hoped it would snow recklessly and bring to the island the impossible winter purity, so rare and precious, he remembered fondly from his youth.
[Ishmael] listened to the world turned silent by the snow; there was absolutely nothing to hear. The silence of the world roared steadily in his ears while he came to recognize that he did not belong...
The strange thing was, he wanted to like everyone. He just couldn't find a way to do it.
The river of his youth had been diverted and poured out broadly across the land to seep through dirt to the roots of crops instead of running in its bed. The river was no longer a river, and the deser...
I'd rather know I can trust you. So before you read what's in that thing, tell me a story that squares with its details and exonerate yourself in my eyes. Tell me the story you should have told the sh...
It ate at whatever was warm nearby, and then the coldness settled in permanently. You learned to live with it
He had watched her, after all, mourn her husband's death and it had been for her in part the discovery that grief could attach itself with permanence - something Ishmael had already discovered. It att...
People appeared enormously foolish to him. He understood that they were only animated cavities full of jelly and strings and liquids.
The bottom line was that he didn't want to die. As far as he was concerned, death was the problem. The basic human problem. Everyone's problem. He wasn't any different from anyone else, but there was...
Oh, to be young. To still be one's own hero.
The world was incomprehensibly intricate, and yet this forest made a simple sense in her heart that she felt nowhere else.
He didn't like very many people any more, or very many things either. He preferred not to be this way, but there it was, he was like that. His cynicism, a veteran's cynicism, was a thing that disturbe...
I was totally absorbed in the real world, the politics, the history, the news, and I just couldn't find my way into the fictional world... When I finally could return to writing the novel, it was in f...
For them it might stave off what he could not help but see with clarity: that the world was silent and cold and bare and that in this lay its terrible beauty.
Tell the truth,' Nels said. 'Decide to tell the truth before it's too late.
Today and in a good winter mood, someone not subject to seasonal affective disorder, someone with a generous
Losing is like knowing that, in the movie scene where a thousand die but the hero lives, you're one of the obliterated.
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