At one point in the interview, Carson admitted that the central method of his con was to demand ten thousand dollars but be willing to settle for five.
Nicholas Crisp, Unfit for Murder.
“The notion that reality is an idea, Eleanor. That was a doorway to never-ending misery.”
Will Bestwyck, Letters From Mr. Palindrome.
“No, sir, he was not quite smiling. But it was close. It was very close to that. Nearly smiling, I’d say.”
Carla Marks, The Murder Matter.
In a culture of image, even the most frivolous delusions merit our serious attention.
Clifford O. Mounce, A Portable Darkness.
Sowing seed in a barren field. That is the fate of the serious writer today. This also applies to the artists—although, in their case, failure to obtain “growth” is the only sure sign of success.
Hunter Hogarth, Raised by Wolves.
A bridge was made of rubber. Those who crossed it bounced a bit. End of tale. Sorry.
Anselm Bligh, A Collection of Miniatures.
Eventually the parasite loses by winning.
Daniel Brasso, The Infinite Regress.
It never occurs to them that they are the shallow ones.
Cedric Plumm, All Roads Lead.
Begging the question has nothing to do with “begging” and nothing to do with a “question.” It concerns shabby reasoning, and that is all.
Alex Twist, A Primer of Posturing.
The Nihilist kneels before nothing.
Godfrey Tooke, Collected Aphorisms.
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