Most critics, fond of subservient art still make the whole depend upon a part. They talk of principles, but notions prize And all to one loved folly sacrifice.
This backward construction was an authorial slight of hand that Poe understood well. Pondering what he called tales of ratiocination - his own name for detective stories - Poe later remarked, People...
He tried to read an elementary economics text; it bored him past endurance, it was like listening to somebody interminably recounting a long and stupid dream. He
because white novelists are not white novelists but simply "novelists," and white characters are not white characters but simply "human," and criticism of both is not partial or personal but a matter...
To deprive the derelicts of hope is right, and to sustain them in their illusory pipe dreams is right also.
A book can't be a half fantasy any more than a woman can be half pregnant.
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...
Keep in mind that when we talk of a great painting we are not really talking about anything great....
Read me back the last line. 'Read me back the last line,' read back the corporal who could take...
Why are they going to disappear him? I don't know. It doesn't make sense. It isn't even good...
It isn't even good grammar. What the hell does it mean when they disappear somebody?
Inscribed on the back was a line from Virgil in Latin: Audentes fortuna juvat. Fortune favors the...
Havermeyer was a lead bombardier who never missed. Yossarian was a lead bombardier who had been...
The rain was pattering hypnotically on the plane's exterior.
