The culture is all about excitement. But the citizens display indisputable evidence of their ongoing boredom.
Dennis W. Sylvester, Confessions of a Moon Man.
The child gets it right, with his Why? and Why? and Why? and Why?
Reginald Ludlow, Next to Physics.
Is anything really arbitrary? If “X” is an arbitrary proposition, what makes it so? That is, what are the criteria? And can’t they be arbitrary? And again: criteria?
Darius Roscoe, Regression to the Mean.
And then there is the case of Gertrude Stein. She is the one who sought to kill the nineteenth century dead. By means of a paucity of commas.
Winslow Crabb, A More Satisfactory World.
Today, “knowing” is just another form of hedonism. We have gone full circle. Or is it full ellipse?
Hamilton Barca, The Black Vapor.
We think we want to know more because we believe that we already do know a great deal.
Jonathan Biggs, The Way of Insects.
What if the photograph does steal something? Say, the illusion that you are a great many things—a complexity— instead of that simple thing in the photo. An entity.
Jason K. Broadus, The Ice of My Dreams.
“We form theories. We do sums. We speak in complete sentences. Well, don’t we? We must be intelligent beings. I tell you, we simply must be!”
Nicholas Crisp, A Suitcase Fell on Her Head.
Some things are too good. They’re just too damned good. We ought to seal them up and store them away. They are just too good.
Victoria Salt, A Compendium of Opening Lines.
dennis scharnberg 