“The erasure of virtue,” groaned Williams. “And the tireless promotion of vice.”
Alberta Traywick, Susannah’s Accident.
Nobody has hated anything on this earth as much as Karl Marx hated the Proletariat.
Rollo Case, Styles of Pretense.
Big lies eat little lies.
Terence Theodore, Proverbs for a New Era.
I will put it lightly: Ours is not a golden age of literature.
Clifford O. Mounce, A Portable Darkness.
Theodore’s gift, his one true talent, was that of obscuring the truth.
Benedict Elder, A Cosmopolitan Paradise.
“Tell me one thing, Toby,” demanded Gettings. “Who follows advice? Who ever did?”
Priscilla Onkers, All About Edward.
“Kathleen, you are uninteresting. I am sorry, of course, but it needed saying. I realize that, since you are an artist, it must come as a shock.”
Trent Bendix, Grieving for Margaret.
“I’m the one on the outside,” said Mr. Baldrick. “I am the one begging my Creator to assure me that I actually dwell in 13th century Bavaria and that I am just having a particularly long nightmare (and that I will wake soon).”
Mark Anthony, The Tale of the Mirror.
We cannot examine everything closely.
Enos Slaughter, Speaking Out of the Ground.
To do: Turn A into not-A, but keep referring to it as A.
Hilbert Kaasa, The Fabian Way.
dennis scharnberg 