FOXFIRE NEVER SAYS NEVER! By the time the kidnapped turquoise-and-chrome car overturns--turns and turns and turns!--in a snow-drifted field north of Tydeman's Corners Legs Sadovsky will have driven el...
The worst cynicism a belief in luck.
A wet autumn morning, a garbage truck clattering down the street. The first snowfall of the season, blossom sized flakes falling languidly and melting on teh ground, a premature snow fall delicate as...
Silence rolled at me, in waves.
This is my life now. Absurd, but unpredictable. Not absurd because unpredictable but unpredictable because absurd. If I have lost the meaning of my life, I might still find small treasured things amon...
Lawrence is the supreme poet of Eros. No recriminations, no reproaches, no guilt, no 'morality'. For what's 'morality' but a leash around the neck? A noose? What's 'morality' but what other people wan...
I'm drawn to failure. I feel like I'm contending with it constantly in my own life.
Can compromise be an art? Yes--but a minor art.
. . . there is a wish in the heart of mankind to be distracted and confused. Truth is but one attraction, and not always the most powerful.
This was before voice mail, recorded phone messages you can't escape. Life was easier then. You just didn't pick up the phone.
If I could open a vein. Not to inject any shit, I will never weaken like that again, but just to feel the kick of it, the old memory. So this numbness lifts. So I could get back there easier.
I never change, I simply become more myself.
Running! If there's any activity happier, more exhilarating, more nourishing to the imagination, I can't think of what it might be. In running the mind flees with the body, the mysterious efflorescenc...
Marx had famously denounced religion as the opiate of the people, now it was Fame that was the opiate of the people;
It is a terrible thing to feel that you might break down, you might utter a confession that could not then be retrieved.
Is joy in life, a terrible joy. There is joy for the taking if you are not afraid.
I was nineteen years five months old when I fell in love for the first time. This seemed to me a profound, advanced age; never can we anticipate being older than we are, or wiser; if we're exhausted,...
These are open secrets, so to speak. Of the kind we dare not articulate, for fear of wounding those close to us.
The best part of being a nanny, Katya thought, was reading children’s books aloud to enraptured children like Tricia, for no one had read such books aloud to her when she’d been a little girl. There h...
Once upon a time the fairy tales begin. But then they end and often you don't know really what has happened, what was meant to happen, you only know what you've been told, what the words suggest.
