Reality was not objective, but always waiting to be reshaped and redefined by one’s attitude. Of
Sunlight is bad,' he wheezes. 'It's the exact same stuff as breeds maggots in wounded soldiers' legs. And when there's no war on, it fades wallpaper.
Peter... She let her head fall back against the seat and sighed. Let’s not go there.That’s what people always say about places where they already are.
Participating in Society in not a thing one can do naturally; one has to rehearse for it.
MERCY. It was a word she’d rarely encountered
La educación es cebar al cordero antes de matarlo.
But to be chemically fixed in time and passed hand to hand forever: that is a nakedness which can never be clothed again.
A simple fuck is one thing, but let a man sleep with you just once and he thinks he can bring his dog and his pigeons.
Vess Incorporated had simply dug them out of one hole and buried them in another
Todo arte nuevo, para ser auténtico, necesita en cierta medida una... comadrona artística.
He only wished he’d had the chance to explain more fully how prayer worked. That it wasn’t a matter of asking for things and being accepted or rejected, it was a matter of adding one’s energy—insignif...
Belief was a place that people didn’t leave until they absolutely must.
Ach,’ she says. ‘There ain’t nuffink in this world but men and women, is there? So you got to care about ’em, ain’t you, else what you got to care about?
Protective of his gleaming domain, beavering away in it alone like an obsessed scientist in a humid and luridly lit laboratory.
Uh-huh.’ ‘And even inside this car, assuming you could have a car, or some sort of vehicle, in this natural world, pulled by horses I suppose . . . It would be pitch black. And very cold, too, on a wi...
This is a street where the weaker souls crawl into bed as soon as the sun sets and lie awake listening to the rats.
There was a red button on the wall labeled EMERGENCY, but no button labeled BEWILDERMENT.
The opulence of Bedford Square and the British Museum may be only a few hundred yards away, but New Oxford Street runs between there and here like a river too wide to swim, and you are on the wrong si...
Sugar leans her chin against the knuckles of the hand that holds the pen. Glistening on the page between her silk-shrouded elbows lies an unfinished sentence. The heroine of her novel has just slashed...
She sings on and on, while the house is discreetly dusted all around her and, in the concealed and subterranean kitchen, a naked duck, limp and faintly steaming, spreads its pimpled legs on a draining...