But I’m not such a good judge of monsters; I don’t know if the idea of a good death repels me now because it’s in itself repellent, or because I no longer have the courage to seek such a thing.
Please God, whatever I was I am no longer….All is forgotten, if not forgiven—it could have come to that. But I don’t trust the thought. I don’t know if it’s because it would be too easy or too terribl...
Whatever it was went through me like a rifle rag. Come dawn, me date was so hot you could have lit a sparkplug off of it.
And the moon is only the moon. But they’re not empty things you know. The past is still in them. The force of events long gone, it lingers. These heavenly bodies and earthly forms, what are they but e...
Where was I?Who was I?What was I?… And for a long time Fintan took it just like that. Giving them nothing. And it was horrible and incredible and it all piled up on me, squashing me in, forcing me dow...
This land looks dreamt, willed, potent.
She was still glad she looked like Scully. He wasn't pretty either, but pretty people weren't the kind you need. Pretty people saw themselves in the mirror and were either too happy or too sad. People...
It’s just an old fella. Mostly bald. Walking dainty like his feet’s tender. And still singing. With some things in his hand. He puts them down on a drum. Sits on a milk crate in the shade. Pulls on a...
Discretion will generally keep a fella safe.
We was just kids, we did kid stuff. And we didn’t have things to do like people in the city. We couldn’t catch the bus to the beach or the movies or hang out in big shopping malls. We had to ride ever...
She wondered if you could love someone too much. If you could it wasn't fair. People didn't have a chance. Love was all you had in the end. It was like sleep, like clean water. When you fell off the w...
I suspect that God is what you do, not what or who you believe in.But people do shit things all the time, I said. There’s something wrong with us.Perhaps. And maybe not. But when you do right, Jaxie,...
And the sun on the wall of her room, the block of sun with all the tiny flying things in it. When she was little she thought they were the souls of dead insects, still buzzing in the light.
It's the pointless things that give your life meaning. Friendship, Compassion, Art, Love. All of them are pointless. But, they're what keeps life from being meaningless.
Liam Rector’s Song Years: Change is hard and hope is violent.
He was scarcely sixteen years of age when he left his father’s home,And through Australia’s sunny clime a bushranger did roam.He robbed those wealthy squatters, their stock he did destroy,And a terror...
When I was a girl I had this strong feeling that I didn't belong anywhere,... It was in my head, what I thought and dreamt, what I believed..., that's where I belonged, that was my country.
You've been busy, he said. Want something done, ask a busy person.
To live you gotta be hard, I know that. But nobody wants to be a deadset cunt. That’s just not fucking decent.
The gospel of perpetual economic growth carries in its train the salvation promise of a life bigger and better for everyone. But this greater good is often mythical. The actual experience of believers...