Love will fly if held too lightly, love will die if held too tightly.’ I just want her to relax her grip a little bit.
Maybe you took two pills and forgot and took two more, and forgot again and took two more, and were so dopy you kept right on until you had thirty or forty of them in you.
Strange. Half my years afraid of life. The other half, afraid of death. Always some kind of afraid.
It’s the Lord’s space and the Lord’s worlds in space, Father. We must not try to take our cathedrals with us, when all we need is an overnight case.
Leisure.” “Oh, but we’ve plenty of off hours.” “Off hours, yes. But time to think?
People forget if they don’t keep testing things.
He paused and tried to feel into himself to see what was really there.
Now, with the message sent, the words said, she wanted to call them back, to censor, to rearrange them, to make a prettier sentence, a fairer explanation of her soul.
But do you know, we never ask questions, or at least most don’t; they just run the answers at you, bing, bing, bing... It’s a lot of funnels and a lot of water poured down the spout and out the bottom, and them telling us it’s wine when it’s not.
Dad read the stereo-newspapers inserted into the special hat you put on your head and which turned the microscopic page in front of the magnifying lens if you blinked three times in succession.
Pero eso es lo maravilloso en el hombre; nunca se descorazona o disgusta tanto como para no empezar de nuevo. Sabe.
Anything that’s strange is no good to the average American.
They have forgotten, if they ever knew, the ancient knowledge that only by being truly sick can one regain health. Even beasts know when it is good and proper to throw up. Teach me how to be sick then, in the right time and place, so that I may again walk in the fields and with the wise and smiling dogs know enough to chew sweet grass.
They peered at him with their shining honey warm molasses-brown eyes. Their smiles, the white smiles pinned to their faces, were wide as all of summer.
Shades slithered, doors boomed, keys rattled their bones in locks, people fled with hordes of torn newspaper mice nibbling their heels.
What a joke, Simon, life is. “From vanity we buy lenses that see all and so lose everything! “And by giving up some small bit-piece of so-called wisdom, reality, truth, we gain back an entirety of life! Who does not know this? Writers do! Intuited novels are far more ‘true’ than all your scribbled data-fact reportage in the history of the world!
He wanted to be seen. He wished to drown me in his need.
Outside the window the boys gabbled to each other. ‘White as milk, she said. White as milk.’ ‘White as a stone, like chalk you write with.
As if hypnotized, he felt his gaze rise again to the old highway which swept by with winds that smelled a billion years ago. Great bursts of headlight arrived, then cut away in departures of red taillight, like schools of small bright fish darting in the wake of sharks and blind-traveling whales. The lights sank away and were lost in the black hills. Charlie.
The first light on the roof outside; very early morning. The leaves on all the trees tremble with a soft awakening to any breeze the dawn may offer.