I get absolutely shitfaced. I am shitfaced and hyper and ten years old. I am having the time of my life.
What can we make of the inexpressible joy of children? It is a kind of gratitude, I think—the gratitude of the ten-year-old who wakes to her own energy and the brisk challenge of the world. You though...
(n.) Alt. of Memoirs
The bassist -- always the bassist.
In Ireland we have the phenomenon known as a "Spoiled Priest." Unlike a spoiled child, this does not refer to a Priest throwing a temper tantrum.
We meet like sovereign princes of independent states, abroad, on neutral ground, freed from our contexts
Leaving North Korea is not like leaving any other country. It is more like leaving another universe. I will never truly be free of its gravity, no matter how far I journey.
This is our purpose: to make as meaningful as possible this life that has been bestowed upon us . . . to live in such a way that we may be proud of ourselves, to act in such a way that some part of us...
Strange satisfaction of organizing pencil crayons and sharpening them (the way I used to enjoy sharpening wax crayons as a kid
Never in our silent moments of illusion do we sense the dark parallel that lives next to us. Nor do we suspect the carrier.
Tomorrow! How sweet its prospects for a drunkard the night before. There is no better word. Before the earth hurls itself into sunshine, nothing is not possible.
Everything bleeds into everything and fiction is just this funny desperate little attempt to staunch the bleeding.
In a world where the most consequential things happen by chance, or from unfathomable causes, you don't look to reason for help. You consort with mysteries... They have been killed in place of you - i...
You are putting yourself in serious danger...'I think that I preferred to put myself in serious danger rather than confront my shame. My shame at not having become someone, the shame of not having mad...
Mr. Schlubb, the pear-shaped PE teacher, sent us all out to run half a dozen laps around a preposterously enormous cinder track. For the Greenwood kids—all of us white, marshmallowy, innately unphysic...
Reading wasn't an attempt to educate myself. It was my chief escape from a world that, although gorgeous in landscape and rich with mountain culture, didn't provide what I needed—the promise of advent...
I had a head for religious ideas. They were the first ideas I ever encountered. They made other ideas seem mean....I had miles of Bible in memory: some perforce, but most by hap, like the words to son...
I was always aware that Jack loved women not only for their bodies but for the stories that came into being as they interacted with him--they were part of his road, the infinite range of experience th...
The interior life expands and fills; it approaches the edge of skin; it thickens with its own vivid story; it even begins to hear rumors, from beyond the horizon skin’s rim, of nations and wars. You w...
There was no time to lose, no time to waste in rest or play. The life of the earth comes up with a rush in the springtime.
The dizzy rapture of starving. The power of needing nothing. By force of will I make myself the impossible sprite who lives on air, on water, on purity.
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