Whoever cares the most will lose.
Who is to say that prayers have any effect? On the other hand, who is to say they don't? I picture the gods, diddling around on Olympus, wallowing in the nectar and ambrosia and the aroma of burning b...
Which does a man prefer? Bacon and eggs, or worship? Sometimes one, sometimes the other, depending how hungry he is.
When you're unhinged, things make their way out of you that should be kept inside, and other things get in that ought to be shut out. The locks lose their powers. The guards go to sleep. The passwords...
When you alter yourself, the alterations become the truth...
When they came to harvest my corpse(open your mouth, close your eyes)cut my body from the rope,surprise, surprise:I was still alive.Tough luck, folks,I know the law:you can't execute me twicefor the s...
When power is scarce, a little of it is tempting.
When I am lonely for boys it’s their bodies I miss. I study their hands lifting the cigarettes in the darkness of the movie theaters, the slope of a shoulder, the angle of a hip. Looking at them sidew...
What's dangerous in the hands of the multitudes, he said, with what may or may not have been irony, is safe enough for those whose motives are...Beyond reproach, I said.He nodded gravely. Impossible t...
What was in them was promise. They dealt in transformations; they suggested an endless series of possibilities, extending like the reflections in two mirrors set facing one another, stretching on, rep...
What pays for all this?Grief in the face of inevitable death. The wish to stop time. The human condition.
What is the real breath of a man — the breathing out or the breathing in?
What he really wanted was revenge. But against whom, and for what? Even if he had the energy for it, even if he could focus and aim, such a thing would be less than useless.
What fiendishness went on in kitchens across the country, in the name of providing food!
Well, they bill by the minute, these lawyers, just like the cheaper whores.
We wait, the clock in the hall ticks, Serena lights another cigarette, I get into the car. It’s a Saturday morning, it’s a September, we still have a car. Other people have had to sell theirs. My name...
We thought we had such problems. How were we to know we were happy?
We get along by a symbiotic adjustment of habits and with a minimum of that pale-mauve hostility you often find among women.
We are survivors, of each other. We have been shark to one another, but also lifeboat. That counts for something.
We are containers, it's only the insides of our bodies that are important.