It rained cats all morning long,
and dogs in the afternoon.
The sky was stitched of gingham,
The sun a lost balloon.
[from “On Thorny’s Farm”]
Miles Bantry, ed., Mister Roode’s Rustic Tales.
Social Media is just folks.
Roger Hedgecook, Stolen and Sold for Parts.
The internet was always a bait-and-switch. The “bait” was unprecedented access to information and entertainment. The “switch” was a surveillance state. We swallowed the former and now dwell in the latter.
Roger Hedgecook, Stolen and Sold for Parts.
“If his face is covered with tattoos, then you can forget about feelings. He is announcing that.”
Lawton Trumbull, The Three Days.
“You want to seem sincere. That’s the goal, Reggie. That is what we’re shooting for.”
Fenton Hardy, The Buried Chest.
Reject all discomfort.
Godfrey Tooke, Collected Aphorisms.
Never be ashamed of anything.
Godfrey Tooke, Collected Aphorisms.
“Memories of mammaries, Nadine. That’s what I dwell upon. That and money for honey.”
Heywood Wakefield, The Humdrum Demon.
Nietzsche: better titles than books.
Callista Ralph, Alphabet Soup.
“…yes, and for the last nine years of that life he dwelled in a rotting old caravan that stood—feebly—in an unclaimed field of weeds.”
Lawton Trumbull, The Three Days.
dennis scharnberg 