If I were to make an uneducated guess about L.A.'s relationship with folk and psychedelia, I would say it must be the weather.
I've lived in a good climate, and it bores the hell out of me.
It reminded me of what Dad said after every snail's crawl home fromAlbany when snow hit.It's New York, people. It's winter. We get snow. If you aren't preparedto deal with it, move to Miami.
No one ever remembered a nice day. But no one ever forget the feel of paralyzed fish, the thud of walnut-sized hail against a horse's flank, or the way a superheated wind could turn your eyes to...
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...
It isn't even good grammar. What the hell does it mean when they disappear somebody?
Read me back the last line. 'Read me back the last line,' read back the corporal who could take...
Havermeyer was a lead bombardier who never missed. Yossarian was a lead bombardier who had been...
