But the new guy is different, and the Acutes can see it, different from anybody been coming on this ward for the past ten years, different from anybody they ever met outside. He's just as vulnerable,...
Because sometimes the only way to keep from losing everything is to give everything up. Because sometimes strength must for the sake of winning give in to
And consummated there a month of quick looks, guarded smiles, accidental brushings of body too open or too secret to be mere accident, and all the other little unfinished vignettes of desire . . . and...
And becomes aware of her image once more, vaguely reflected in the dirty attic window: what does it mean, all this concern about our images? It means this is the only way we ever see ourselves; lookin...
A bluetick hound bays out there in the fog, running scared and lost because he can’t see. No tracks on the ground but the one’s he’s making, and he sniffs in every direction with his cold red-rubber n...
And if I don't have her to where she don't know whether to shit or go blind, the bet is yours.
Tingle, ting-le, tang-le toes, she’s a good fisherman, catches hens, puts ’em inna pens…wire blier, limber lock, three geese inna flock…one flew east, one flew west, one flew over the cuckoo’s nest…O-...
No, my friend. We are lunatics from the hospital up the highway, psycho-ceramics, the cracked pots of mankind. Would you like me to decipher a Rorschach for you?
I take my stand behind the human heart, not alongside violence . . . ... Not be right or wrong or good or bad, just be pulling. In a minute the idiots won’t even be listening, they’ll just be pulling....
I can’t help it. I was born a miscarriage. I had so many insults I died. I was born dead. I can’t help it. I’m tired. I’m give out trying. You got chances. I had so many insults I was born dead. You g...
He's safe as long as he can laugh, he thinks, and it works pretty fair.
He's got hands so long and white and dainty I think they carved each other out of soap, and sometimes they get loose and glide around in front of him free as two white birds until he notices them and...
He was in his chair in the corner, resting a second before he came out for the next round -- in a long line of next rounds. The thing he was fighting, you couldn't whip it for good. All you could do w...
He raced the motor, urging the car to decide which way to turn onto the street. Come on, man . . . be serious. Gearshift hot as a poker, and ears ringing . . . finally, palm to face to somehow press a...
But in spite of her efforts to stop the words she can feel some of the need getting through: he doesn’t need me that much, he couldn’t—
And the more I think about how nothing can be helped, the faster the fog rolls in.
And like: Why should one want to wake up dead anyway? If the glorious birth-to-death hassle is the only hassle we are ever to have . . . if our grand and exhilarating Fight of Life is such a tragicall...
Living in that foggy, jumbled blur which is a whole lot like the ragged edge of sleep, that gray zone between light and dark, or between sleeping and waking or living and dying, where you know you’re...
. .sometimes reading the same page over and over, until one sleepy afternoon something clicked, like a lock unlocking, and she saw those printed doors swing open on a vast house of words.
Harding) I indulged in certian practices that our society regards as shameful. And I got sick. It wasn't the practices, I don't think, it was the feeling that the great, deadly, pointing forefinger of...