He was wounded in an enemy country far from home and although his eyes took in the alien stones about yet the greater void beyond seemed to swallow up his soul.
He’s an uncommon love for the common man and godly wisdom resides in the least of things so that it may well be that the voice of the Almighty speaks most profoundly in such beings as lives in silence themselves.
The flowered crown to all other abominations. A walkin plague in your own house. That’s what’s been.
If you think that the dignity of your life cannot be cancelled with the stroke of a pen then I think you should think again.
Blood. This country is give much blood. This Mexico. This is a thirsty country. The blood of a thousand Christs. Nothing.
It’s just that the passing of time is irrevocably the passing of you. And then nothing. I suppose it should be a comfort to understand that one cannot be dead forever where there’s no forever to be dead in. Well. I see your look. I know that you see me enfettered in some cognitive morass and I’m sure that you would contend it to be the ultimate solipsism to believe that the world ceases when you do. But I’ve no other way to look.
All I can say is that he never done nothin like this before.
The kid looked at Tobin. What’s he a judge of?
The first rule of the world is that everything vanishes forever.
Pray for lightning.
Nothing is changed. I wish it were a dream and I could wake. I wish I could forget it but I cant. I wish I could be who I was before but I never will be.
Hooknosed crones strapped into the electric chair. No one has ever seemed to comment that the stereotypical witch is meant to appear Jewish.
The mountains to the south stood blackly against a violet sky. The snow on the north slopes so pale. Like spaces left for messages.
Boredom will drive even quietminded people down paths they’d never imagined.
Stella Maris Black River Falls, Wisconsin Established 1902 Since 1950 a non-denominational facility and hospice for the care of psychiatric medical patients.
Love is quite possibly a mental disorder itself.
I’m a fugitive from the ways of this world. I’d be a fugitive from my mind if I had me some snow.
Shoo, said the old man. I wouldn’t turn Satan away for a drink.
He stood watching them for a long time. They all seemed to be waiting for something. Like passengers in a halted train. Yet the captain inhabited another space and it was a space of his own election and outside the common world of men. A space privileged to men of the irreclaimable act which while it contained all lesser worlds within it contained no access to them. For the terms of election were of a piece with its office and once chosen that world could not be quit.
The boy looked at him. Finally he asked him why this was such a blessing and the blind man did not answer and did not answer and then at last he said that because what can be touched falls into dust there can be no mistaking these things for the real. At best they are only tracings of where the real has been.