Eavesdropping's sort of thrilling 'cause you learn what people really think, but eavesdropping makes you miserable for exactly the same reason.
The song instantly insisted it'd never existed.
Green is made of yellow and blue, nothing else, but when you look at green, where've the yellow and the blue gone? Somehow this is to do with Moran's dad. Somehow this is to do with everyone and...
Sunlight bent around the world, lending fragile color to wildflowers.
Self pity, Orito reminds herself yet again, is a noose dangling from a rafter.
I consider how you don't get to choose whom you're attracted to, you only get to wonder about it retrospectively.
The mind abhors a vacancy & is wont to people it with phantoms.
We are both busy people, so let's cut the small talk.
Torturous advances won over generations can be lost by a single stroke of a myopic president's pen or a vainglorious general's sword.
The weak are meat the strong do eat.
Time is what stops history happening at once; time is the speed at which the past disappears.
We looked at each other for the last time; nothing is as eloquent as nothing.
We are only what we know, and I wished to be so much more than I was, sorely.
Truth is singular. Its 'versions' are mistruths.
Unlimited power in the hands of limited people always leads to cruelty.
Power, time, gravity, love. The forces that really kick ass are all invisible.
Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.
My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?
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.
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...
the full fury of his storming countenance with its rugged overhang of gullied forehead and huge crag...
Hope for some means its loss for others; when the hopeless regain some hope, those in power--the...