Where do you live?In the hearts of men, Sullivan said.
When we reached the sidewalk, a lovely teen-age girl wearing pink eyelashes asked me for my autograph. I don't know who you are, she said, but I'm sure you must be somebody.
WYATT: What kind of sound waves?DR. BAZELON: Tapes of the cries of baby mice. This sound reaches a level of forty thousand cycles per second. It's the purest thing in nature.
Tuition at the College-on-the-Hill is fourteen thousand dollars, Sunday brunch included.
Traffic was stopped dead and I nudged the window switch and listened to the blowing horns approach peak volume. We were trapped in our own obsessive clamor.
To plot is to live. […] We start out lives in chaos, in babble. As we surge up into the world, we try to devise a shape, a plan. There is dignity in this. Your whole life is a plot, a scheme, a diagra...
To men at this remove, it is as though things exist in their particular physical form in order to reveal the hidden simplicity of some powerful mathematical truth.
This is the whole point of Babette.
This is the point of Babette.
This is not a story about your disappointment at my silence. The theme of this story is my pain and my attempts to end it.
They had to evacuate the grade school on Tuesday. Kids were getting headaches and eye irritations, tasting metal in their mouths. A teacher rolled on the floor and spoke foreign languages. No one knew...
These are the days after. Everything now is measured by after.
These are among the people I've tried to know twice, the second time in memory and language. Through them, myself. They are what I've become, in ways I don't understand but which I believe will accrue...
There's just so much time set aside for baffled reaction. I believe we've reached the limit.
There's always more to it. This is what history consists of. It is the sum total of the things they aren't telling us.
There's a moral force in a sentence when it comes out right. It speaks the writer's will to live.
There is a darkness attached to them, a foreboding. They make me wary not of personal failure and defeat but of something more general, something large in scope and content.
The system was invisible, which made it all the more impressive, all the more disquieting to deal with. But we were in accord, at least for now.
The students tend to stick close to campus. There is nothing for them to do in Blacksmith proper, no natural haunt or attraction. They have their own food, movies, music, theater, sports, conversation...
The sewer system is a form of welfare state. It’s a government funnel to the sea.