“[Ouspensky] came to regard the light that passed through his window as an object, a solid object.” Sometimes Benton’s enigmatic assertions made sense. An awkward, stubborn sense.
Giles Coxe-Coburn, Belief in Insects.
It is words sure, my lord, that leadeth us to miserie.
William Davy, “Anna Livia’s Demise.” (1620)
Priscilla Fanning, Fragments From the Jacobean Stage.
Harry sought to effect changes in his outward behavior. For example, concerning his tendency to throw himself to the ground from time to time.
Clifford Apogee, Draining the Pools and Other Stories.
He was buzzing about, quite satisfied, in a groundless world.
Christina Rubb, The Awful Puzzle.
Words can conserve, yes. And words can get rid of.
Desmond Urquhart, The Unsocial Sciences.
A selection from Kenneth’s many haiku false-starts:
1. The stench of lumber chokes almost all
2. Doddering out, graying, he appeared
3. A new shovel obtained, guess who
4. Tire track in puddle, it did not last nor
5. Eye of blackened bird, ear of yew tree, chin of stone
6. In unexpected rain shoes filled and glistened
7. A raven came, danced in rain, watching ravens
Tessa Fielding and Constance Gogarty, A Book of Lists.
To be wrong about everything is the easier path (as opposed to merely this or that).
Jeremy Clyde, The Method of Non Sequitur.
Josephine and Carlie distributed leaflets announcing a candlelight vigil for Hamilcar, the deceased gorilla.
Chadwick Graves, One Damned Thing After Another.
“You’re missing it completely, Steffens. You are taking an equilibrium that barely occurs to be a rock-solid world.”
Hilary Fewkes, The Banality Killings.
“The room was ringing,” said Jannings. “If you know what I mean.”
Thaddeus Crewes, The Seven Long Years.
dennis scharnberg 