When there is no longer any point in lying, no one will lie
What madness! Yet she would do it, if she could force herself. She'd become, she believed, a stronger person: a willful, resolute. Like the man who adored her, reckless.
Você pode fingir ser quase tudo que não é, há pouquíssimas coisas que de fato se pode ser.
VERY ODD, HOWEVER, Annabel was beginning to feel, how the stranger continued to hold the hand-sickle, at his side; now he’d turned to her, seeing her, yet without an air of surprise, as if he’d known...
To claim - to claim repeatedly - that you are innocent of what it is claimed by others that you have done, or might have done, or are in some quarters strongly suspected of having done, is never enoug...
Taking the law into your own hands, fuck what's wrong with that?
She was standing with her thin arms lifted in a pose of crucifixion as the white satin gown with its myriad pearl buttons, tucks and pleats and ingenious lace trim, was fitted onto her like an exquisi...
One thing it was not: love at first sight. He didn’t believe in such. He wasn’t a believer in romance, sentimental coincidences, meanings snatched out of the air. He certainly didn’t believe in destin...
Nothing is 'mythic,' close up. Nothing is 'mythic' where you live.
No American sport or activity has been so consistently and so passionately under attack as boxing, for moral as we'll as other reasons. And no American sport evokes so ambivalent a response in its def...
Much of the time he lay part-dressed on his bed, sipping gin, and thinking, and thinking, - though what it was, of which he thought, he seemed not to know.
Maidstone exerts a curious spell upon the observer: suggesting, in its somewhat blunt, foursquare architecture, and its towering chimneys and exceptionally tall, narrow, and brooding windows, frequent...
Maggots in corpses. He'd seen. Whitely churning, in the mouths of dead soldiers, where their noses had been, their ears and blasted-away jaws. Most of the soldiers had been men as young as he himself...
Like the philosophy credited to Jack Dempsey: The more punches a man takes, the closer he is to the end. Because a man has only a fixed number of punches he can take in his lifetime. Pa?
Language is the instrument in all cases and can language be trusted?If it were not for language, could we lie?
Keeing busy is the remedy for all the ills in America. It's also the means by which the creative impulse is destroyed.
I’d like to be your friend—but only if you promise not to ever, ever count on me.
It struck her to the heart, left her weak, disoriented, that, to Michael Mulvaney, after all, his family wasn’t quite enough.
It is utterly naive, futile, uninformed—to think that our species is exceptional. So designated to master the beasts of the Earth, as in the Book of Genesis!
It is perhaps not commonly known that a Negro heavyweight championship title existed from 1902 to 1932 when many white champions (including John L. Sullivan, Jim Jeffries, Jack Dempsey) refused to fig...