“Isn’t that what we are all here for?” demanded Mr. Unwin. “To do things well?”
Jane Chetwynde, The Have-Not Faradays.
“I haven’t the bloody time that God gave a goose!” Harry was inventing colorful expressions. And he was pretty decent at it.
Grayling Scott, An Inventory of Characters.
Identification of the messenger is simple enough. But what is the message? How do we ever determine the message?
Winslow Steele, Anatomy of Stasis.
“Okay, then. When are we at our best?” Travis was pretending again. Of course. He didn’t really want to know.
Corinna Sparks, Turning to Stone.
What do I value? I know I say I value this (or that). But really? In a crisis, what would I reach for, what would I protect? This: the daughter I never had.
Trevor Matthew, The Visible Man.
A book does make a world. Indeed it does. A thoroughly inadequate world.
Desmond Urquhart, The Unsocial Sciences.
“I don’t actually need to know anything, do I? Won’t my assumptions be enough? Quite enough?”
Kyle Torrance, The Middlesex Murders.
The cessation. The sudden stopping of something that had been ongoing. Now what does that signify?
Kellen Winslow, My Life in Kenya.
Although artists might disagree, I regard Modernism as what it is: a death threat.
Trevor Albertus, Malevolent Asymmetry.
Deconstructionism is merely a symptom. Like hair loss. Or itchy skin.
Edgar Dawlish, Toward a More Interesting Chemistry.
