ERIC: What are you always writin' in that book anyway?...
In any case, perhaps the quest for data to support our actions gets overemphasized. After all, our emotions distinguish us. Art and poetry and music are from and to the human heart, as is, for many,...
In effect, painting is the still memory of {the artist's} human motion, and our individual responses to it depend on who we are, on our character, which underlines the simple truth that no person...
Artistic symbols and myths speak out of the primordial, preconscious realm of the mind which is powerful and chaotic. Both symbol and myth are ways of bringing order and form into this chaos.
Love doesn't make you a poet
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
The Red Lion was a four-ale bar with a handful of lowbrowed sons of toil who looked as though they...
What could you do? Major Major asked himself again. What could you do with a man who looked you...
If I turned towards books, it was because they were the only sanctuary I knew, one I needed in order...
We all had to pay, but not for the crimes we were accused of. There were other scores to settle.
Hope for some means its loss for others; when the hopeless regain some hope, those in power--the...
Why are they going to disappear him? I don't know. It doesn't make sense. It isn't even good...
Havermeyer was a lead bombardier who never missed. Yossarian was a lead bombardier who had been...
fiction is like a spider's web, attached ever so slightly perhaps, but still attached to life at all...
Read me back the last line. 'Read me back the last line,' read back the corporal who could take...
