Never too late. Shooting is prayer. And when civilisation shuts up shop, a gun’ll be worth any number of university degrees.
I would agree with your statement that many of my protagonists are outsiders. I wonder if we all are, and even people who don't think they are, and they're just better at masking it. When we shut our...
Do you ever think you might be a different species of human, knitted out of raw DNA in a laboratory like in , and then turned loose to see if you can pass yourself off as normal or not?
Fuck you, said Fear to Reason.
It’s not just the person who fills a house, it’s their I’ll be back later!s, their toothbrushes and unused hats and coats, their belongingnesses.
Había leído lo bastante como para apreciar mi ingenio literario, pero no lo bastante como para identificar mis fuentes de conocimiento. Me encantan las mujeres así. Podía decirle cosas como: La princi...
After years of working with missionaries, I am tempted to conclude that their endeavors merely prolong a dying race's agonies for ten or twenty years. The merciful plowman shoots a trusty horse grown...
Sometimes John had recorded new compositions, or lines from his new poems. Sometimes he'd just record a busy night in The Green Man. Sometimes sheep, seals, skylarks, the wind turbine. If Liam were ho...
As for reading, I wish I had a magic door to a library where I could go in, read for days and days, and come back in the same minute I left. I'm still looking for the door.
How about this? Hong Kong had been appropriated by British drug pushers in the 1840s. We wanted Chinese silk, porcelain, and spices. The Chinese didn't want our clothes, tools, or salted herring, and...
Spent the fortnight gone in the music room reworking my year's fragments into a 'sextet for overlapping soloists': piano, clarinet, 'cello, flute, oboe, and violin, each in its own language of key, sc...
A true suicide is a paced, disciplined certainty. People pontificate, Suicide is selfishness. Career churchmen like Pater go a step further and call it a cowardly assault on the living. Oafs argue thi...
What women want is still what it's always been: either you or, more likely, not you.
What man ain't the honestest cove in his own eyes? Grote's round face is a bronze moon in the dark. 'Tain't good intentions what paves the road to hell: it's self-justifyin's.
For most digital-age writers, writing rewriting. We grope, cut, block, paste, and twitch, panning for gold onscreen by deleting bucketloads of crap. Our analog ancestors had to polish every line ment...
Glass & peace alike betray proof of fragility under repeated blows.
I’d always worried but kissing’s not so tricky. Your lips know what to do, just like sea anenomes know what to do. Kissing spins you, like Flying Tea-Cups. Oxygen the girl breathes out, you breathe in...
Being born's a hell of a lottery.
Entre todas las razas del mundo, nuestra sed, o mejor dicho, nuestra avidez, de tesoros, de oro, de especias y de dominio, ¡oh, si!, sobre todo del dulce dominio, ¡es la más aguda, la más insaciable,...
So winners, Hae-Joo proposed, are the real losers because they learn nothing? What, then, are losers? Winners?
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