“No, sir,” said Withers. “I had never before heard a rock band shout with such virile sincerity.”
Bertrand Thorne, A Death on the Manor.
“Yes, Brenda, I do read Hegel. From time to time. But it’s only for the laughs.”
Hollis Beddoes, Counting the Magpies.
We do not have reason. Something we have been led to call “reason” has us.
Baldwin Tavinger, Toward a Rhetoric of Number.
Everyone a psychologist.
Godfrey Tooke, Collected Aphorisms.
Almost unlimited circles and squares and triangles and squiggles and smudges—as only W. Kandinsky could arrange them!
Nelson Poindexter, Corpuscular Aesthetics.
Think of Maths as counting—adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing. But counting in a generalized way. And involving various levels of generality.
Nigel Wooding, The Golden Mean.
To this day, I remain baffled by [Audubert’s] claim that Merenhotep IV ushered in an era of unparalled cleanliness.
M. H. B. Mander, Old Kingdom Archaeology. (1884)
“Interpretations require such effort!” declared Gerald, with a sincerity that almost surprised him. But—of course—it was all mere theater. As usual.
Anselm Bligh, A Collection of Miniatures.
“They will hate you for being right, Mr. Hawkins. That I guarantee!”
Park V. Kessler, Nearly Happy.
“We operate a factory, sir. We do hope you appreciate the immensity of that.”
Roberta Pym, The Complete Undoing of William Ambrose.
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