“Whoah! Another thing that cannot be said! That must not be said. Oh, they will thrash it all out of me. In broad daylight. Bitterly. With big sticks.”
Tristan Holyoke, A Tree Full of Monkeys.
Multitasking: Because the things we do today are so devoid of substance, many people have come to believe that they are capable of engaging in more than one of these at the same time.
Hallie van Groote, The Varieties of Happiness.
Culture persists only because we cannot think of what to do. Minute after minute.
Hans Paulus, How Pictures Look At Us.
The misery of perception. Now, where does John Locke talk about that? Or Berkeley? Or Hume?
Reed Harlowe, The House of Empiricism.
“How do I express myself? By what means?” thought Harold. “By laughter and by groaning.”
Chadwick Graves, One Damned Thing After Another.
“I just glide along on the culture, too,” said Mr. Lockgarden, “like everyone else. The difference is that I see it. I do see it so clearly.”
Clifford Apogee, Draining the Pools, and Other Tales.
“I want to learn to pout better. Or more thoroughly, perhaps.” Frederick often looked for ways to improve himself. To advance.
Jason Starling, ed., Adventures in Narrative Parsimony.
Modernism, of course, is rubbish. And what about that nineteenth century neoclassicism against which the moderns rebelled—at least in part because they were unable to produce it? Remember that stuff? It too was rubbish. A particularly refined (and superfluous) form of figuration, created by talented technicians. At a certain point, there were two distinct pathways, both of which were inadequate: the art of the academies and art as “expression”.
Harold Hassouna, Myths of Development.
“Gee, I don’t feel any different now that I know. Does that mean that knowing doesn’t matter?” Sometimes, it seemed to Kellen that he didn’t have a leg to stand on.
Charles Jeffrey Yett, Writing in Miniature—Vol. Three.
Our “rights” are secured by what? By documents. By a few sentences.
Christopher Valerian, In Search of Boundary Conditions.
