What do these paintings say to us? They say nothing. Nothing at all. The paintings are mute. And it is always with the muteness that we must contend.
Tycho Vetters, The Self-Portraits of Albrecht Durer.
Young Peter (to Mr. Crabbin): Pardon me, sir. But aren’t you a detective?
Crabbin: Well, I’m an old coot. So, yes. Yes, I am a detective.
Benedict Huxley, Murder Again: A Play in Three Acts.
Irony: the worst use of language today; the most common use of language today.
W. Karl Bavinger, The Misanthrope’s Way With Words.
People have called Peters a “nazi” because, of course, people do that.
Gilbert Dollarhide, The Toil and the Trouble.
How do we find out what happened? Say, yesterday? Or this day in 966 A.D. in the city of Rome? All given methods are inadequate to the task. And even if there were some degree of adequacy in method, we could never impede the onslaught of interpretation: “What did it all mean? What, oh what, did it mean?”
Gaylord Perry III, The Walls of Magnus Martyr.
Politician: the one who fulfills our desire to be fooled.
W. Karl Bavinger, The Misanthrope’s Way With Words.
We are humans. Failing is what we do.
Dennis W. Sylvester, Confessions of a Moon Man.
Empiricism can be regarded as a form of magic. Or it could be if we were able to regard it empirically.
Gardner Stuyvesant, The Trauma of Materialism.
“I want to be looked at. I do want to be desirable.”
Nan Chresto, Strengthen Your Core in Nine Easy Steps.
I learned this a long time ago: that anything can do harm.
Dennis W. Sylvester, Confessions of a Moon Man.
