dennis scharnberg

“I tend to think in terms of three, Sam.  Groups of three.  And I do believe that there was a third great Homeric poem, in addition to the Odyssey and the Iliad.  Of course, it is lost to us.  Long gone.  But in my vision of the thing, it must have centered upon the later life of a minor character who appears in some versions of the Iliad.  His name works out to be something like our familiar “Molloy.” And the poem is likely to have narrated—relentlessly— the everyday minutiae in the life of this whining, complaining, small-minded parasite.  And, Sam, do bear in mind that there be might certain advantages inherent in the loss of this text.  You know what they say about gift horses.”

Will Bestwyck,  Letters From Mr. Palindrome.

“Banquo was a hothead, Charlie.  And he had it coming.  Have you ever considered that?”

Burdyce Goode,  Wonderful With Dogs.

“Artists are the worst of all, Lucy.  They are the most conformist people I have ever known.  The are an advertisement for the culture.”

Wilson Phelps,  Reaching Out.

“I really mean it, Stacie.  Apps are my passion.”

Jeremy Malking,  The Anechoic Chamber: Stories.

Steel is my friend.

Godfrey Tooke,  Collected Aphorisms.

“Theater sucks,” declared Mr. Devlin, with a tone of finality.

Tina Gryde,  Flower Children.

Parker’s original intention was to describe the scene of the crime with spectacular literary sentences that would send chills up the reader’s spine.  Or down it.

Will Southey,  Government Cheese, the Novel.

May 12, 2013.   Family scattered all over.  Alienated.  Aimless.  Won’t somebody please write a novel about me?

Reginald Boyington,  Dear Dreadful Diary.

Garry Shandling was “that wooden tent stake that I should like to pound into the clay with a large mallet.”  Another of Pillsbury’s gems.

Everson Dwight,  Theory of Machines, a Novel.

“He cloaks his emotions,” declared Daphne.  “I do not know him well!”

Agatha Vox,  When Everything Was Singing.