And you were truthful. No. You weren’t truthful? I was accurate.
Adversity brings out the best in us ... It's everyday living that does us in.
To control the deaths of others - when, where, the craft of ensuring it was a cleanly sliced ending - that was possible. And in some strange way, such killing felt like controlling whatever remained o...
The sum of such chaos was that I seemed to be reading a book that never really started and never quite finished.
The only people who believe in straight roads are generals & mail coach drivers.
Realism is the embrace of disappointment, in order no longer to be disappointed. 4 So I came to the city, my friend, the Doll then told Jodie, what of it?
On his death bed, the eighteenth-century haiku poet Shisui had finally responded to requests for a death poem by grabbing his brush, painting his poem, and dying. On the paper Shisui’s shocked followe...
It's like life, isn't it? You think you'll outrun it, that you're better than it, but it makes a fool of you every time. It runs you into the ground and steams off whistling away, happy as buggery wit...
He read and reread ‘Ulysses’. The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, ’Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
He had the sense that the gods was just another name for time, but he felt that it would be as stupid to say such a thing as it would be to suggest that against the gods we can never prevail.
Feeling became fashionable and emotion became a theatre in which people were players who no longer knew who they were off the stage.
Decades would pass. A few short sections would be formed in time into strangely resurrected, trunkless legs-tourist sites, sacred sites, national sites.
DARKY GARDINER OPENED his eyes and blinked. Raindrops fell on his face. He pushed his hands into the mud but they kept sinking. He was swimming in shit. He tried to get back to his feet. It was imposs...
And when I had finished painting & looked at that poor leatherjacket which now lay dead on the table I began to wonder whether, as each fish died, the world was reduced in the amount of love that you...
I do not share the pessimism of the age about the novel. They are one of our greatest spiritual, aesthetic and intellectual inventions. As a species it is story that distinguishes us, and one of the s...
Ვინ იტყვის, რა არის ზედ ასახული? ერთმა შეიძლება ისინი აღიქვას მონობის მტკიცებად, მეორემ - პროპაგანდად. განა იეროგლიფები გვეუბნებიან რამეს იმის შესახებ, თუ როგორი იყო მონის ცხოვრება შოლტის ქვეშ პირამიდ...
Railway fettler, and his family lived in a Tasmanian Government Railways
Good book, he had concluded, leaves you wanting to reread the book. A great book compels you to reread your own soul.
Cacophony of typewriter keys being pounded and typewriter carriages returning, phones ringing, men yelling and coughing, electric fans here and there droning as they hacked the unbearable heat into in...
And how if she didn’t see him for another thirty years she would still love him, how she would still love him if he was dead until she was dead too.