They were drugged, stone in love. To them every scar on the face of the world was a beauty mark.
Don’t sweat the small stuff, it’s a long walk back to EDEN. Carolyn Roberts.
Under the California desert and subsidized by the taxpayers’ money, someone had finally invented a chain letter that really worked. A very lethal chain letter.
Obliqueness is the curse of the reading class.
I looked at what he built, and to me it explained the stars.
I’m convinced that fear is at the root of most bad writing. If one is writing for one’s own pleasure, that fear may be mild – timidity is the word I’ve used here. If, however, one is working under deadline – a school paper, a newspaper article, the SAT writing sample – that fear may be intense.
In this universe there might grow roses which sing.
Hearts don’t really break. If only they could.
He didn’t need a psychiatrist to point out that writing had its autoerotic side – you beat a typewriter instead of your meat, but both acts depended largely on quick wits, fast hands and a heartfelt commitment to the art of the farfetched.
The Disney parks are scripted, and I hate that. Hate it. I think what they are doing down there in Orlando is fun-pimping...
The Tower trembles; the worlds shudder in their courses. The rose feels a chill, as of winter.
Keeping up the fiction. You have to keep it up, sometimes, no matter how you feel.
What seems solid to us is actually only a loose net held together by gravity. Everything in the Universe denies ‘nothing’. To suggest an ending is the one absurdity” -The Man in Black from Stephen King’s The Gunslinger.
They float, they all float... and when you’re down here with me, fat boy, you’ll float too.
Dreams on waking were like empty cocoons of moths or the split-open husks of milkweed pods, dead shells where life had briefly swirled in furious but fragile storm-systems.
There can be a big difference between what you think is great and what you actually like.
I believe that there is another man inside of every man, a stranger, a Conniving Man.
Oh, I suppose all men of intelligence know how fragile such things as Law and Justice and Civilization really are, but it’s not a thing they think of willingly, because it disturbs one’s rest and plays hob with one’s appetite.
Sorry is the KoolAid of human emotions.
Because it makes me happy when the words fall together and the picture comes and the make-believe people do things that delight me. But it’s better with you, Constant Reader. Always better with you.