Time and age have brought not wisdom, as they are supposed to do, but confusion, and a broadening incomprehension, each year laying down another ring of nesience.
Ma ei looda surmajärgsele elule ega jumalusele, kes võiks seda pakkuda. Arvestades, missuguse maailma ta lõi, oleks temasse uskumine jumalavallatus.
It was not just the drink, though, that was making me happy, but the tenderness of things, the simple goodness of the world. This sunset, for instance, how lavishly it was laid on, the clouds, the lig...
Inhabiting a place that could not be home, they were like actors compelled to play themselves.
I am, as is surely apparent by now, a thing made up wholly of poses. In this I may not be unique, it may be thus for everyone, more or less, I do not know, or care. What I do know is that having lived...
How is it that in childhood everything new that caught my interest had an aura of the uncanny, since according to all the authorities the uncanny is not some new thing but a thing known returning in a...
He made the mistake of imagining that his possessions were a measure of his own worth, and strutted and crowed, parading his things like a schoolboy with a champion catapult.
And incredulity, that too was a large part of being happy. I mean that euphoric inability fully to believe in one’s own simple luck. There I was, suddenly, with a girl in my arms, figuratively, at lea...
Защото спомените много държат да съответстват напълно и безпогрешно на отново посетените места и неща от миналото.
All frail sufferers from the same disease that affected me, all ailing bibliomanes being treated for addiction, as in a literary methadone clinic...
Двамата бяха близнаци...когато се престраших да помоля Хлое да ми разкаже съвсем откровено, защото много исках да узная как се чувства човек , какво представлява това състояние на неизбежна близост .....
Yet even without saying, each knew what the other was thinking, and, more acutely, what the other was feeling -- this is a further effect of our shared sorrow, this empathy, this mournful telepathy.
Yes, this is what I thought adulthood would be, a kind of long indian summer, a state of tranquillity, of calm incuriousness, with nothing left of the barely bearable raw immediacy of childhood, all t...
When I was a child and heard about angels, I was both frightened and fascinated by the thought of these enormous, invisible presences in our midst. I conceived of them not as white-robed androgynes wi...
When I look back, no matter how hard I try I can see clear break between one phase and another. It is a seamless flow - although flow is too strong a word. More a sort of busy stasis, a sort of runnin...
What is money, after all? Almost nothing, when one has a sufficiency of it.
This love, this mortal love, is of their own making, Hermes muses, the thing we did not intend, foresee or sanction. How then should it not fascinate us? . . . It is as if a fractious child had been h...
These things that were between us, these and a myriad others, a myriad myriad, these remain of her, but what will become of them when I am gone, I who am their repository and sole preserver?
There was a beat of silence and the atmosphere thickened briefly. I glanced from one of them to the other, seeming to detect an invisible something passing between them, not so much a signal as a sort...
The telephone ringing gave me a dreadful start. I have never got used to this machine, the way it crouches so malevolently, ready to start clamouring for attention when you least expect it, like a mad...