Surely that was why faith had been invented: to raise teenagers without dying. Although of course it was also why death was invented: to escape teenagers altogether.
No, I'm not Jewish, she said archly, staring him down, to teach him, to teach him this: Are you?Yes, he said. He studied her eyes.Oh, she said.Not many of us in this part of the world, so I thought I'...
The people in this house, I felt, and I included myself, were like characters each from a different grim and gruesome fairy tale. None of us was in the same story. We were all grotesques, and self-riv...
Often, when she spoke to men at parties, she rushed things in her mind. As the man politely blathered on, she would fall in love, marry, then find herself in a bitter custody battle with him for the k...
Tell him not to smoke in your apartment. Tell him to get out. At first he protests. But slowly, slowly, he leaves, pulling up the collar on his expensive beige raincoat, like an old and haggard Robert...
The ants are my friends- they're blowing in the wind
On Fridays there were fish fries or boils at which they served lawyers (burbot or eelpout), so-called because their hearts were in their butts.
One had to build shelters. One had to make pockets and live inside them.
One of the problems with people in Chicago, she remembered, was that they were never lonely at the same time.
You emptied the top rack of the dishwasher but not the bottom, so the clean dishes have gotten all mixed up with the dirty ones - and now you want to have sex?
What was education for, if not to acquire contradictions? At least it looked like that to me.
Perhaps she drives men away. Perhaps, without even being able to help herself, she just puts men into her ill-tempered car and drives them off: to quarries, dumps, small anonymous bodies of water.
Perhaps we had at last reached that stage of intimacy that destroys intimacy.
Personally I've never put much store by honesty- I mean how can you trust a word whose first letter you don't even pronounce
Philosophers are good at parties but not for cleaning up after.
Philosophize: you are a mistress, part of a great hysterical you mean historical tradition.
Pleasantness was the machismo of the Midwest. There was something athletic about it. You flexed your face into a smile and let it hover there like the dare of a cat.
There is something comforting, thinks Mack, in embracing someone the same size as you.
The situation was not easy for her, they knew. Once, at the start of last semester, she had skipped into her lecture hall singing Getting to Know You - both verses. At the request of the dean the chai...
There seemed nothing so true as a yellow tree.
Showing 181 to 200 of 325 results