Anonymous, where among the hard-bitten, laid-off-lathe-operator
Paranoid art, unlike paranoid persons, also distrusts itself. And so, paranoid art is the ultimate opposite, the urgent opposite, of complacent art.
Exemplified the dull rigidity of Singapore’s old colonial fantasies about itself.
To the resentment that hides inside love, to the loneliness that hides among companions.
The alphabet Miss Poobner taught was represented on the wall above her head by a series of personified cartoonlike letters--Mr. A, Eating an Apple; Mrs. B, Buying a Broom; and so on--and something ins...
Mai infrangere le illusioni degli altri se non si è certi di poter offrir loro un'alternativa migliore di quella a cui li si vuole strappare.
Like other names I censored lately, this was a vote against invoking monsters, against etching their reality into the air.
I jotted the name down mentally on that tattered notepad I call a memory. The pen skipped.
I guess they needed a maze in Japan, where everything's neat and tidy. In America everybody's already wandering around lost.
I am relaxed. It's just buried under layers of incredulity and panic. But underneath those I'm very relaxed.
Hospital turned out to represent a punctuated tedium, the recurrence of blood pressure and temperature checks, the placement and emptying of bedpans and painful switching of IV lines from the crook of...
He couldn't be more than twenty-five, but he obviously lived enough to have things to regret. He looked like he'd taken a long fall a short time ago. Pieces of the man he'd been were jumbled up with t...
Except science now tells us that luck is there whether you acknowledge it or not. And I'm afraid in your case I see the signs of a history of bad luck. Not even a latency so much as a full-blown case...
But we were chumps and we knew it. As makers of sentences we were practically fetal, beneath notice, unlaunched, fooling around in our spare time or on somebody else’s dime. Nobody loved our sentences...
A superhero spliced criminals from victims. In Gowanus things tended to be more mixed up.
Eso es muy superficial.- No se puede ser profundo sin superficie.
Zelmo was nearly bellowing by the time he raised his glass to the tables center. 'To the human heart!' Diners at other tables glanced to see what was the matter.
We were in a middle space then, in a cone of white, father and son moving forward at a certain speed. Side by side, not truly quiet but quiescent, two gnarls of human scribble, human cipher, human dre...
This was the time when all we could talk about was sentences, sentences—nothing else stirred us. Whatever happened in those days, whatever befell our regard, Clea and I couldn’t rest until it had been...
There's never any percentage in being ahead of your time.