He wants something from me. He doesn’t know that the only thing I have left is the hollow of something gone
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...
Good writin' ain't necessarily good readin'.
But I tried, though, he says. Goddammit, I sure as hell did that much, now, didn’t I?
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 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...
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...
All I know is this: nobody's very big in the first place, and it looks to me like everybody spends their whole life tearing everybody else down.
Alarm, when used for anything less than a fire or an air attack, is certain to muddle the mind, unsettle the senses, and, in most cases, more than double the danger.
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...
And if I don't have her to where she don't know whether to shit or go blind, the bet is yours.
. .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...
The big, hard body had a tough grip on life. It fought a long time against having it taken away, flailing and thrashing around so much I finally had to lie full length on top of it and scissor the kic...
It wasn't the practices, I don't think, it was the feeling that the great, deadly, pointing forefinger of society was pointing at me--and the great voice of millions chanting, 'Shame. Shame. Shame.' I...
If you’ll curtail your literary pursuits a moment I’ll introduce you to my counterpart and Nemesis; I would be trite and say, ‘to my better half,’ but I think that phrase indicates some kind of basica...
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...
E világ…az erőseké, barátom! Létezésünk szertartása azon alapszik, hogy az erősek a gyengéken híznak. Így van, tudomásul kell vennünk. Nincs rendben, de még ez a legjobb megoldás. Fogadjuk el, mint a...