... but it is attitude, not years, that condemns one to the ranks of the Undead, or else proffers salvation. In the domain of the young there dwells many an Undead soul. They rush about so, their inner putrefaction is concealed for a few decades, that is all.
Don't remember summer even saying goodbye.
Time is the speed at which the past decays.
Assured her I've never loved anyone except myself and have no intention of starting now.
Wars are never cured, they just go into remission for a few years.
There's a link between bigotry and bad spelling.
A weapon men use against women is the refusal to take them seriously.
It's a small world. It keeps recrossing itself.
If we believe that humanity may transcend tooth and claw, if we believe divers races & creeds can share this world as peaceably as the orphans share their candlenut tree, if we believe leaders must be just, violence muzzled, power accountable & the riches of the Earth & its Oceans shared equitably, such a world will come to pass.
As many truths as men. Occasionally, I glimpse a truer Truth, hiding in imperfect simulacrums of itself, but as I approach, it bestirs itself & moves deeper into the thorny swamp of dissent.
I elbowed my way into the grubby café, bought a pie that tasted of shoe polish and a pot of tea with cork crumbs floating in it, and eavesdropped on a pair of Shetland pony breeders. Despondency makes one hanker after lives one never led. Why have you given your life to books, TC? Dull, dull, dull! The memoirs are bad enough, but all that ruddy fiction! Hero goes on a journey, stranger comes to town, somebody wants something, they get it or they don't, will is pitted against will. "Admire me, for I am a metaphor.
As an experienced editor, I disapprove of flashbacks, foreshadowings, and tricksy devices; they belong in the 1980s with M.A.s in postmodernism and chaos theory.
I wonder how many years Suga has been carrying his curse around with him. I forget that other people in the world have broken parts too.
People b'lief the world is built so an tellin em it ain't so caves the roofs on their heads'n'maybe yours.
Men invented money Women invented mutual aid
How could I know a famished heart will eat its mind? Can kill its body?
why human beings despise what is beautiful and good, and seek to destroy the things they need the most
But you have read Madame Bovary?' (I'd never heard of her books.) 'No.
So little is actually worthy of belief or disbelief. Better to strive to coexist than seek to disapprove . . .
The song instantly insisted it'd never existed.
For white men, to live is to own, or to try to own more, or to die trying to own more. Their appetites are astonishing! They own wardrobes, slaves, carriages, houses, warehouses, and ships. They own ports, cities, plantations, valleys, mountains, chains of islands. They own this world, its jungles, its skies, and its seas. Yet they complain that Dejima is a prison. They complain they are not free.
Why does any martyr cooperate with his judases?...We see a game beyond the endgame...As Seneca warned Nero: No matter how many of us you kill, you will never kill your successor.
The music provokes a sharp longing the music soothes.
Why fight the 'natural' (oh, weaselly word!) order of things? Why? Because of this--one fine day, a purely predatory world shall consume itself. In an individual, selfishness uglifies the soul; for the human species, selfishness is extinction.
One cannot pass by without thinking of the density of men in the ground.
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