“We are pagans!” Devon enthused. “And, hey, everything is good! Everything is really good.”
Jason Starling, ed., Adventures in Narrative Parsimony.
It became a meteorite only after it had gone clunk, right on top of Miss Stacie’s head.
Will Southey, Government Cheese, the Novel.
It is as though W. Kandinsky devised a set of rules, and we are somehow obligated to follow them.
Crispin Trove, The Viewer as Pest.
November 11, 2012. It strikes me that hardly anyone writes novels nowadays—suggesting that it is very difficult to do. On the other hand, everybody and his dog is busy writing miniatures. So, easy to do?
Reginald Boyington, Dear Dreadful Diary.
“I did nothing at all,” insisted Dr. Hastings. “But it appears that I did nothing in the wrong way.”
Silas Burbage, The Adventurous Half-Life of Buddy Boyo.
“She was awfully pretty,” said Martens. “Terribly. Horribly.”
Thaddeus Crewes, Crowded Evil World.
“I don’t worship the clergy, Linda. They are not the thing. But I do my best to tolerate them.”
Deane Marlowe, Theory of Dirt.
Koolius Caesar.
Godfrey Tooke, Collected Aphorisms.
We dwell upon a silk sofa carried on the backs of our ancestors.
Chalmers Van Nest, The Trivial Quadrivium.
