Rabbit realised the world was not solid and benign, it was a shabby set of temporary arrangements rigged up for the time being, all for the sake of money. You just passed through, and they milked you...
Ken appeared, was taller than she, wanted her, was acceptable and accepted on all sides; similarly, nagging mathematical problems abruptly crack open. Foxy could find no fault with him, and this chall...
I don't recall inclement weather on a fair day.
He must try to stop swearing; he wonders why he’s doing it. To keep them apart, maybe; he feels a dangerous tug drawing him toward this man.
Funny, the world just can’t touch you once you follow your instincts.
Ever since, two summers ago, Joe Marino had begun to come into her bed, a preposterous fecundity had overtaken the staked plans, out in the side garden where the southwestern sun slanted in through th...
America teaches its children that every passion can be transmuted into an occasion to buy.
A yawning repetitiveness as of a man who knows few words but will not stop talking.
Government is either organized benevolence or organized madness its peculiar magnitude permits no shading.
Жизнь — ад, но этот ад прекрасен.
You have a life and there are these volumes on either side that go unvisited; some day soon as the world winds he will lie beneath what he now stands on, dead as those insects whose sound he no longer...
With his white collar he forges god’s name on every word he speaks
We were all brought up to want things and maybe the world isn't big enough for all that wanting. I don't know. I don't know anything
This life is the one to be lived now, that much is crystal-clear. What did Thoreau supposedly say—‘One world at a time’?
The thing about her is, she’s good-natured. He knew it the second he saw her standing by the parking meters. He could just tell from the soft way her belly looked. With women, you keep bumping against...
The day is declining through the white afternoon to the long blue spring evening. He drives past a corner where someone is practicing on a trumpet
The clangor of the body shop comes up softly. It's noise comforts him, tells him he is hidden and safe, that while he hides men are busy nailing the world down, and toward the disembodied sounds his h...
Suspect each moment, for it is a thief, tiptoeing away with more than it brings.
Not only are selves conditional but they die. Each day, we wake slightly altered, and the person we were yesterday is dead. So why, one could say, be afraid of death, when death comes all the time?
Men traveling alone develop a romantic vertigo. Bech had already fallen in love with a freckled embassy wife in Russia, a buck-toothed chanteuse in Rumania, a stolid Mongolian sculptress in Kazakhstan...