Pointless labor, useless trash, but for the bureaucrat nothing's trash until he affronts his soul by throwing it out.
Now he slept soundly through the nights, and often he dreamed of trains, and often of one particular train: He was on it; he could smell the coal smoke; a world went by. And then he was standing in th...
If illness didn’t kill you, you died of bad luck.
We live in the post-trash, man. It'll be a real short eon. Down in the ectoplasmic circuitry where humanity's leaders are all linked up unconsciously with each other and with the masses, man, there's...
Maybe, when you hear the name Beverly, you think of Beverly Hills--people wandering the streets with their heads shot off by money.
Love and violence-not to conquer one with the other but to live with both, that's what I've learned. Each pulling me a different way. If I relax my struggles they don't tear me in two, but lift me up.
It felt like the moment before the Savior comes. And the Savior did come, but we had to wait a long time.
He was so entranced, he was so charmed, so captivated-rolled out flat, dreamed into, shone upon-that when she said his name, English started to live.
He got right down in the dark between heartbeats, and rested there. And then he saw that another one wasn't going to come. That's it. That's the last. He looked at the dark. I would like to take this...
What can be said about those fields? There were blackbirds circling above their own shadows, and beneath them the cows stood around smelling one another’s butts.
Talk into here. Talk into my bullet hole. Tell me I'm fine.
Since Marco Polo, he thought, this climate has defeated Western civilization.
It was all right to be who he was, but others would probably think it was terrible. A couple of times in the past he'd reached this absolute zero of the truth, and without fear or bitterness he realiz...
I knew every raindrop by its name.
That world! These days it's all been erased and they've rolled it up like a scroll and put it away somewhere. Yes, I can touch it with my fingers. But where is it?
Like all men you have a religion - at least a way of looking at yourself and the universe both at once, which is all I'd hope a religion to be...
I make the road. I draw the map. Nothing just happens to me...I'm the one happening.
Generally the closest I ever came to wondering about the meaning of it all was to consider that I must be the victim of a joke.
Completely confused as to who the real criminals were in this case, the jury had voted to wash their hands of everybody and they let him off. That had been the meaning of the conversation I'd had with...
[The doctor] peeked into the trauma room and saw the situation: the clerk - that is, me - standing next to the orderly, Georgie, both of us on drugs, looking down at a patient with a knife sticking up...