A true suicide is a paced, disciplined certainty. People pontificate, Suicide is selfishness.

Power is lost or won, never created or destroyed. Power is a visitor to, not a possession of, those it empowers. The mad tend to crave it, many of the sane crave it, but the wise worry about its...

But an ink brush, she thinks, is a skeleton key for a prisoner's mind.

Okay, so she's mad as a sack of ferrets. Only I don't tell her so 'cause I'd like more of that green tea.

one fine day, a purely predatory world shall consume itself. Yes, the Devil shall take the hindmost until the foremost is the hindmost. In an individual, selfishness uglifies the soul; for the human...

Nothing more costly than item that has no price.

the man had literally fallen from the heavens, like Jesus or David Bowie. A

You & I, the moneyed, the privileged, the fortunate, shall not fare so badly in this world, provided our luck holds. What of it if our consciences itch? Why undermine the dominance of our race, our...

All that way, and he never crossed the bridge.

But the idea that you can no longer trust your mind, that's just about the most frightening thing there is. When you mess around with proportion or symmetry, or when doubt is injected into your...

There's lying," says Mum, fishing out the envelope she wrote the directions on from her handbag, "which is wrong, and there's creating the right impression, which is necessary.

Who's breathing down my neck? I turn around - no one. Only the train, picking up speed, dives into the darkness.

As a pedagogical approach, disability studies provides ways of legitimating the lives of those occupying peripheral embodiments as offering insightful alternative modes of nonnormative...

This is why the elite need a prophylactic barrier of shitty state schools, to prevent clever kids from working-class post codes ousting them from the Enclave of Privilege

Like a shiny silver pinball whizzing out of the firing lane, I've not got the faintest bloody clue where I'm going or what'll happen next.

Are you mad?' Always a trickier question than it looks.

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. Tuesday

Our right to be here is weaker by the minute

The challenge of the politics of atypicality becomes particularly pressing within neoliberal biopolitics, particularly in that much of disability's social oppression is based on medical...

ignorance of the Other engenders fear; fear engenders hatred; hatred engenders violence; violence engenders further violence until the only rights, the only law, are whatever is willed by the most...

When shaving, thinks Jacob, a man rereads his truest memoir.

Men have imagined republics and principalities that never really existed at all. Yet the way men live is so far removed from the way they ought to live that anyone who abandons what 'is' for what...

What's wrong, de Zoet? You look like your breeches are beshatten.

conduct your life in such a way that, when your train breaks down in the eve of your years, you have a warm, dry car driven by a loved one-or a hired one, it matters not-to take you home.

Who wins, you or the sony? The sony, I answered, or how would I ever improve? So winners, Hae-Joo proposed, are the real losers because they learn nothing? What, then, are losers? Winners?

Uzaemon is no longer surprised by Shuzai's perspicacity. I don't know if I have the right to involve you.To a believer in Fate, replies Shuzai, it's not you who is involving me.

... I thought, I am in this world, but no longer of this world.

Siddhartha is a dead man and a living ideal. The man taught about overcoming pain, and influencing one's future reincarnations. But I pray to the ideal.

I watched clouds awobbly from the floor o' that kayak. Souls cross ages like clouds cross skies, an' tho' a cloud's shape nor hue nor size don't stay the same, it's still a cloud an' so is a soul. Who...

Three or four times only in my youth did I glimpse the Joyous Isles, before they were lost to fogs, depressions, cold fronts, ill winds, and contrary tides … I mistook them for adulthood. Assuming...