—These guys spend half their time lying, and they are still not good at it.
—And what about when they tell the truth? Are they any good at that?
Philip Cavendish, Tilly’s Treasury of Colloquial Bits.
Always demand this of the adversary: What is the purpose of your question?
Palmer Coates, The Dark Afternoon of the Soul.
—But it’s great that everyone has a voice. Surely.
—No. No. No. No. No!
Which statement represents the prevailing attitude toward the Web?
Winslow Crabb, A More Satisfactory World.
Participation in the Liberal Arts today—as a student or as faculty—has one basic requirement: knowing what to hate.
Regina Whiting, Lost in the Tangle.
Being an intellectual is a form of failure. Or put it this way: How might one succeed as an intellectual?
Jackson Currothers III, The View From the Cauldron.
Evidently, the word “irony” and the word “iconic” just cannot be used enough. The internet is the contorted death of the English language.
Francine Arthur, A Critique of Sincerity.
“You feel thick. All over. You feel viscous. But like a viscous solid. You cannot quite pour yourself.” Gavin struggled, as usual, to describe the heroin “experience.”
Jason Starling, ed., Adventures in Narrative Parsimony.
It is obvious to Carlotta that the universe ought to be aligned perfectly with her preferences.
Glynnis Hoving, The Multiplication Murders.
It’s an awful thing, to recognize that you are just as self-absorbed as the others.
Jason K. Broadus, The Ice of My Dreams.
No one ever really doubts himself. If one reflects on the matter, it becomes clear that “doubt” is very difficult indeed.
Amanda Willcoxen, ed., The Philosophical and Literary Fragments of Gregory Sallust.
