The university of the modern era began with 19th century German hermeneutics—Biblical scholarship in particular. A highly rigorous, multilingual enterprise. A bit daunting, actually. What we have in the early 21st century is post-modernism: a silly fashion show.
Laurence Leary, The Elysian Fields.
Could there be anything worse than a politics based on resentment?
Trent Zaha, Skirting the Issue.
“What do we call it,” asked Palmer, “this desire to correct the attitude of the people?”
Gwen Tunder, The Soda Pop Murders.
“Tell me, Lieutenant, why does the doubter pretend that his doubt is not a decision?”
Clive Ennis, The Case of the Broken Handle.
Joyce did not open the door (to further development of the art of fiction). By no means. With Finnegans Wake, Joyce closed the door. Or denied the door. Smugly, I would guess.
Hill Boothby, The Dazzling Realm of Almost.
Jack sat toiling away at his latest book—one nasty paragraph after another.
Darko Rivenbark, Snapshots.
March 21, 2009. A list of things worth doing:
—give a satisfactory account of yourself
—believe three impossible things before breakfast
—pull yourself together
—read a novel perfectly
—listen closely to cicadas
—address a litter of photographs
Reginald Boyington, Dear Dreadful Diary.
If you’re doing only one thing, you are doing nothing.
Logan Nygaard, A Treatise on Amusement.
“It’s either art or it is cupcakes.” Such baffling remarks were just the thing that endeared Logan to his several friends.
Griffin Poindexter, Particle Swarm Theory: More Short Stories.
“Screenplay alert! Oh, I do say it: screenplay alert!” Why did Harry watch the TV at all? Why did he bother to watch?
Grayling Scott, An Inventory of Characters.
