Colonies are much, much more. Colonies are the outhouses of the European soul, where a fellow can let his pants down and relax, enjoy the smell of his own shit. Where he can fall on his slender prey r...
Colder than the nipple on a witch’s tit! Colder than a bucket of penguin shit! Colder than the hairs of a polar bear’s ass! Colder than the frost on a champagne glass!
But as with Maxwell's Demon, so now. Either she could not communicate, or he did not exist.
Behind the hieroglyphic streets there would either be a transcendent meaning, or only the earth.... Another mode of meaning behind the obvious, or none. Either Oedipa in the orbiting of a true paranoi...
At the corner store they invaded a hot dog stand and drank pina colada to sober up. It did no good.
Astronomy is as soil'd at the hands of the Pelhamites as ev'ry other Business in this Kingdom,— and we ever at the mercy of Place-jobbery, as much as any Nincompoop at Court.
As they stand in the muck of the Cypress Swamp, black and thinly crusted, each Step breaking through to release a Smell of Generations of Deaths, something in it, some principle of untaught Mechanicks...
A screaming comes across the sky.
A schlemihl is a schlemihl. What can you make out of one? What can one make out of himself? You reach a point, and Profane knew he had reached it, where you know how much you can and cannot do. But ev...
A city uninhabited is different. Different from what a normal observer, straggling in the dark - the occasional dark - would see. It is a universal sin among the false-animate or unimaginative to refu...
Our beauty lies in this extended capacity for convolution.
Failing to look inscrutable to any but the habitually dismissive ...
. . yet there is no avoiding time, the sea of time, the sea of memory and forgetfulness, the years of promise, gone and unrecoverable, of the land almost allowed to claim its better destiny, only to t...
The hole left by the moon’s tearing-free and monument to her exile;
There is also the story about Tyrone Slothrop, who was sent into the Zone to be present as his own assembley--perhaps heavily paranoid voices whisper, 'his time's assembley'--and there ought to be a p...
Let the peace of this day be here tomorrow when I wake up.
Later they went outside, where a light rain was blowing in, mixed with salt spray feathering off the surf. Shasta wandered slowly down to the beach and through the wet sand, her nape in a curve she ha...
Japanese staff who claim not to know a word of English beyond awesome and sucks, which for a vast range of human endeavour, actually, is more than enough…
It was the U.S.A., after all, and fear was in the air.
It was as if she had just discovered the irreversible process. It astonished her to think that so much could be lost, even the quantity of hallucination belonging just to the sailor that the world wou...