And becomes aware of her image once more, vaguely reflected in the dirty attic window: what does it mean, all this concern about our images? It means this is the only way we ever see ourselves; looking out, at others, reflected through cobwebs from an attic window.
That first day still came about as close to undoing me completely, both physically and mentally, as any day had in almost a week.
But, oh Viv, right doesn’t make might.
But even then, with her prize in tow as she weaves out of the bar, the shield never changes, the expression stays, still somewhere between blunt ferocity and brute pathos.
To know a thing you have to trust what you know, and all that you know, and as far as you know in whatever direction your knowing drags you. I once had a pet pine squirrel named Omar who lived in the cotton secret.
It’s gonna burn me just that way, finally telling about all this, about the hospital, and her, and the guys – and about McMurphy. I been silent so long now it’s gonna roar out of me like floodwaters and you think the guy telling this is ranting and raving my God; you think this is too horrible to have really happened, this is too awful to be the truth! But, please. It’s still hard for me to have a clear mind thinking on it. But it’s the truth even if it didn’t happen.
To know a thing you have to trust what you know, and all that you know, and as far as you know in whatever direction your knowing drags you.
You got to understand that as soon as a man goes to help someone, he leaves himself wide open.
Boney Stokes was this oldtime acquaintance of Henry’s and figured the best way to pass the time of day was by gradually dying.
I love them but I cannot give myself for them.
This kept happening, off and on. It’d be bright for a little bit, everything shining like chrome, waxy-looking, polished, then go dark as muddy water.
He’d traveled in a straight line and completed a circle.
How,” the moon whispered, “can you be sure it is lost? Until you try to find it?
Man will do away with anything that threatens him with loneliness – even himself.
Viv feels the hand go bloodless and numb against her neck; startled, she turns to look at his face. There is no expression at all. For a moment he is gone from his face, as though he had fallen somewhere inward, away from her and the old man and the fire, into a remote pool of himself.
He throws the torn paper from his window into the October breeze and returns to bed. He falls asleep watching the little fragment of light vibrate across his wall, thinking how much more efficient it would be filling an hourglass with photons instead of those unruly grains of sand.
In his room Lee wonders how to include all the history that Peters will need to make any sense of the situation.
Or, perhaps, the fellows are ill at ease because they didn’t stick up for their friend. Perhaps they are feeling guilty for the way they once again let her victimize them into being her interrogators. Cheer up, friends, you’ve no reason to feel ashamed. It is all as it should be. It’s not the rabbit’s place to stick up for his fellow. That would have been foolish. No, you were wise, cowardly but wise.
Lufa drgala mi jak pies srajacy pestkami brzoskwin.
I still had my own notions. How McMurphy was a giant come out of the sky to save us from the combine that was networking the land with copper wire and crystal.