It took me till I was lying among the Rats and Vermin, upon the freezing edge of a Future invisible, to understand that my name had never been my own,— rather belonging, all this time, to the Authorit...
It means this War was never political at all, the politics was all theatre, all just to keep the people distracted … secretly, it was being dictated instead by the needs of technology … by a conspirac...
It is the dark, hard, tobacco-starved, headachey, sour-stomached, middle of the day, a million bureaucrats are diligently plotting death and some of them know it, many about now are already onto the s...
If there is something comforting - religious, if you want - about paranoia, there is still also anti-paranoia, where nothing is connected to anything, a condition not many of us can bear for long.
Explosion without an objective', declared Miles Blundell, 'is politics in its purest form'.
But with a sigh he had released her hand, while she was so lost in the fantasy that she hadn't felt it go away, as if he'd known the best moment to let go.
. . [S]uppose we considered the war itself as a ?
There was the old hippie-hating mad dog himself, moonlighting after a busy day of civil-rights violation, as pitchman for Channel View Estates.
Ay jalisco, no te rejas
You never want to see kids repeat your own mistakes.
Who am I to know my own motives. But I did foolhardy things.
Two of them there drinking red liquor like it was sadness medicine.
This is America, you live in it, you let it happen. Let it unfurl.
This advice has been given often and more compellingly elsewhere, but my specific piece of wrong procedure back then was, incredibly, to browse through the thesaurus and note words that sounded cool,...
They are approaching now a lengthy brick improvisation, a Victorian paraphrase of what once, long ago, resulted in Gothic cathedrals—but which, in its own time, arose not from any need to climb throug...
There is a Hand to turn the time,Though thy Glass today be run,Till the Light hath brought the Towers lowFind the last poor Preterite one . . .Till the Riders sleep by ev'ry road,All through our cripp...
The Telescope, the Flaxions, the inventions of Logarithms and the frenzy of multiplication, often for its own sake, that follow'd have for Emerson all been steps of an unarguable approach to God, a gr...
The Stars are so close you won’t need a Telescope. The Fish jump into your Arms. The Indians know Magick. We’ll go there. We’ll live there. We’ll fish there. And you too.
Teamwork, Koteks snarled, is one word for it, yeah. What it really is is a way to avoid responsibility. It's a symptom of the gutlessness of the whole society.
Somewhere beyond the battening, urged sweep of three-bedroom houses rushing by their thousands across all the dark beige hills, somehow implicit in an arrogance or bite to the smog the more inland som...