A wine-colored welt of scar tissue had bubbled up in the little stab hole; it was interesting to look at, like a small blob of pink glue, and it reminded her in a good way of Lawrence of Arabia, burni...
With a grief no less sharp for not being intimate with its object.
Maybe good luck was like bad luck in that it took a while to sink in. You didn't feel anything at first. The feeling came later on.
Only—if you care for a thing enough, it takes on a life of its own, doesn’t it? And isn’t the whole point of things—beautiful things—that they connect you to some larger beauty? Those first images tha...
To me, the hallmark of the modern mind is that it loves to wander from its subject) I
When I’d asked Mrs. Barbour where the washing machine was, she’d looked at me as if I’d asked for lye and lard to boil up for soap.)
To really be centered and to really work well and to think about the kinds of things that I need to think about, I need to spend large amounts of time alone.
Гонитва просто за красою — це пастка, пряма стежка до гіркоти й смутку, що красу треба поєднувати з чимось більш значущим.
Але чи має якийсь глузд усвідомлювати, що життя закінчується погано для нас усіх, навіть найщасливіших, і наприкінці ми втрачаємо все, що має якесь значення, а проте водночас знати, що всупереч тому,...
Коли ми сумуємо — принаймні я такий, — ми можемо знайти втіху, припадаючи до знайомих предметів, до речей, які не змінюються.
¡Preocupación! Qué pérdida de tiempo. Todos los libros sagrados tenían razón. Era evidente que la «preocupación» era indicio de persona primitiva y poco desarrollada espiritualmente. ¿Cómo era el vers...
Would.
Whatever reason, an evening nodding and unconscious in my bedroom at Hobie’s had begun to seem like a perfectly reasonable response to the holiday lights, the holiday crowds, the incessant Christmas b...
We all jumped—a cab with its light on skidded across the lane to us, throwing up a fan of sewer-smelling water. Watch it! said Goldie, leaping aside as the taxi plowed to a stop—and then observing tha...
Valiant efforts to make conversation all stumbled and sank into quicksand. The main thing I remembered were the forced smiles, the heavy smell of cherry pipe tobacco and Grandpa Decker’s not-very-frie...
Really great painting is fluid enough to work its way into the mind and heart through all kinds of different angles, in ways that are unique and very particular.
Over to the Asia Society, and now she’s out doing a bit of Christmas shopping. She says you, ah, you’re meeting her later tonight?
Out of a clear blue sky the heroes and heroines abandoned their adventures for some dull sweetheart, got married and had families, and generally started acting like a bunch of cows.
Only now was it starting to make sense why Lady Macbeth could never scrub the blood off her hands, why it was still there after she washed it away.
Not that I’d even been thinking about Cinzia until the moment before, but it had all seemed so solid, so immutable, the whole social system of the building, a nexus where I could always stop in and se...