“No, Janet. I certainly did understand your perplexity. And I am sure that a fire poker is a wonderful implement.”
Ruth Ledgerwood, Death by Logic.
“Always thank the pop singers,” Jeffrey chided. “Remember that. Always thank them.”
Chadwick Graves, One Damned Thing After Another.
We have entered an era, a way of being, wherein the only prospect for humility is humility as display.
Pamela Hrothgar, No Stone Unturned.
window pain
Andrew Tertullian, Pandora’s Ponderous Puns.
Ulysses presents many excellent literary sentences. Some of them are striking. But in the service of what?
Helena Packhouse, Into the Wretched Light.
So much of the sophistry of our day is given over to convincing ourselves that the activities in which we indulge are satisfying.
Baldwin Tavinger, Toward a Rhetoric of Number.
The great problem with the lie is that it can be told too well. When the teller of the lie comes to believe the lie.
Travis Hilliard, The Mesmerizing Particles.
“How far can one push stupidity,” wondered the Inspector, “before one crosses over into insanity?”
Lana Dowling, The Mystery of the Dull Parcels.
Phillips left his sentence unfinished. To the immense relief of all those present.
Christina Rubb, The Awful Puzzle.
“One should not yearn for sleep so intensely,” advised Currothers.
Giles Coxe-Coburn, Tooth and Claw.
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