We had trench warfare in America way before World War I. Most people don’t know that.
Viewed close: a freckled hand against a black coat, an origami frog tipped over on its side. Step away, and the illusion snaps in again: life-more-than-life, never-dying. Pippa herself is the play bet...
Understand, by saying ‘God,’ I am merely using ‘God’ as reference to long-term pattern we can’t decipher.
Um— I turned to the shop window to compose myself, and my transparent ghost turned to meet me, crowds passing behind me in the glass.
To be absolutely free! One is quite capable, of course, of working out these destructive passions in more vulgar and less efficient ways. But how glorious to release them in a single burst! To sing, t...
Time slid from under me in drifts like ice skids on the highway, punctuated by sudden sharp flashes where my wheels caught and I was flung into ordinary time:
They understood not only evil, it seemed, but the extravagance of tricks with which evil presents itself as good.
They all shared a certain coolness, a cruel, mannered charm which was not modern in the least but had the strange cold breath of the ancient world : they were magnificent creatures, such eyes, such ha...
There’s only a double abyss: between painter and imprisoned bird; between the record he left of the bird and our experience of it, centuries later.
The twilights out there were florid and melodramatic, great sweeps of orange and crimson and Lawrence-in-the-desert vermilion, then night dropping dark and hard like a slammed door.
Te sorprendería saber hasta qué punto las pequeñas cosas cotidianas pueden sacarnos de nuestra desesperación.
Snowing in Dubai! A miracle, Potter! Look! That’s Dublin you ass. Not Dubai. Valí otsyúda! Fuck off!
Puedes equivocarte de camino y que aun así este te lleve a donde quieres ir. O, viceversa, a veces puedes hacerlo todo mal y aun así sale bien.
Perché se è vero che il male può discendere dalle buone azioni… dove sta scritto che da quelle cattive può venire solo il male? Magari a volte – il modo sbagliato è quello giusto? Magari prendi la str...
Or rather, I dreamed of her constantly, only as absence, not presence: a breeze blowing through a just-vacated house, her handwriting on a notepad, the smell of her perfume, streets in strange lost to...
One's thought patterns become different, he said, when forced into the confines of a rigid and unfamiliar tongue. Certain common ideas become inexpressible; other, previously undreamt-of ones spring t...
One's thought patterns become different (...), when forced into the confines of a rigid and unfamiliar tongue. Certain common ideas become inexpressible; other, previously undreamt-of ones spring to l...
One likes to think there's something in it, that old platitude amor vincit omnia. But if I've learned one thing in my short sad life, it is that that particular platitude is a lie. Love doesn't conque...
On game day, until five o'clock or so, the white desert light held off the essential Sunday gloom—autumn sinking into winter, loneliness of October dusk with school the next day—but there was always a...
Old age, sickness, death. No escape for anyone. Even the beautiful ones were like soft fruit about to spoil. And yet somehow people still kept fucking and breeding and popping out new fodder for the g...