Book publishing in 18th century England was like selling turnips. It was a constant scramble.
Brisbane Crowe, The Life and Times of a Hack.
BTI: (small upper-case letters preferred) an abbreviation for the era before the internet.
Clive Morrow, A Crustacean’s Dictionary.
Tomorrow never comes.
Godfrey Tooke, Collected Aphorisms.
Wow is the word that Edmund selected. “Wow” is the statement that Edmund made.
James Finial, The Misadventures of Caroline.
We had spent the morning flipping through hundreds of postcards. At a place called Rocky’s Antiques. It was basically a junk shop, and the cards and old loose black-and-white photos were stacked into dozens of shoe boxes—each item standing on edge and facing the customer. Like a ragged index system. I came upon an entity that was both postcard and photographic print. An RPPC. It was from the 1920s and presented a portrait of Charlie Poole, staring right out at me, with his banjo upright and resting on a knee. I turned to my buddy Michael and I said: “This is treasure upon the earth.”
Anselm Bligh, A Collection of Miniatures.
“You have no idea why you are asking that, Charles. You seem to have an itch about something. I can’t possibly know what. And then—of course—you ask!”
Adrian Caliban, The Magnificent Egglestons.
“Ow-chi-chi-wow-wow!” cried young Tristram.
Will Hannay, Old Tales Told Anew.
For example, try to notice how the internet paves the way for forgetting.
Roger Hedgecook, Stolen and Sold for Parts.
“They went up and covered this joker with a blanket. A blanket! Apparently to hide him from the police. And just as suddenly they walk off like nothing happened.”
William Garrick, An Epistolary Novel.
A salient example of absurdity: modernist sculpture at heroic scale.
Gunnar Grimes, The Persistence of Vision.
