But the rest are even scared to open up and laugh. You know, that’s the first thing that got me about this place, that there wasn’t anybody laughing. I haven’t heard a real laugh since I came through that door, do you know that? Man, when you lose your laugh you lose your footing.
But I tried though,” he says. “Goddammit, I sure as hell did that much, now, didn’t I?
The best of all possible cages.′ Ben stepped back to regard the job with a sad smile. ‘What more can one ask?
What a cheery atmosphere, don’t you agree?
You can make a mark across the night with the tip of an embered stick, and you can actually see it fixed in its finity. You can be absolutely sure of its treacherous impermanence. And that is all.
He’s safe as long as he can laugh, he thinks, and it works pretty fair.
He’s like an old clock the won’t tell time but won’t stop neither with the hands bend out of shape and the face bare of numbers and the alarm rusted silent, an old worthless clock that keeps ticking and cuckooing without meaning nothing.
Tata zicea ca, daca nu iei seama, oamenii te silesc, intr-un fel sau altul, sa faci ce socotesc ei ca trebuie sa faci, ori sa te indaratnicesti ca un catar si sa faci toate pe dos, in ciuda lor.
What the Chronics are – or most of us – are machines with flaws inside that can’t be repaired, flaws born in, or flaws beat in over so many years of the guy running head-on into solid things that by the time the hospital found him he was bleeding rust in some vacant lot.
While his relaxed, good-natured voice doled out his life for us to live a rollicking past full of kid fun and drinking buddies and loving women and barroom battles over meager honors-for all of us to dream ourselves into.
Man, when you lose your laugh you lose your footing.