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Post by jkazoolien on Aug 22, 2010 23:15:17 GMT -5
"We are here on Earth to fart around. Don't let anybody tell you any different." Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country
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Post by callipygias on Aug 30, 2010 19:08:54 GMT -5
Something of awe now stole over me, as I gazed upon this inflexible iron animal. Always, more or less, machinery of this ponderous, elaborate sort strikes, in some moods, strange dread into the human heart, as some living, panting behemoth might.
An early take on the de-humanization of the coming industrial age. The Tartarus of Maids, Herman Melville (1855)
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Post by callipygias on Sept 1, 2010 20:24:51 GMT -5
One of his hands clutched a short black pipe, and with the grimed fingers of the other he slowly, carefully, ecstatically jerked at a long curling hair that grew out of his nose.
Goldfish, Raymond Chandler
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Post by jkazoolien on Sept 3, 2010 7:52:04 GMT -5
"We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing." Charles Bukowski, The Captain is Out to Lunch and the Sailors have taken over the Ship
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Post by callipygias on Sept 8, 2010 21:30:00 GMT -5
Don't give the best Scotch to anyone who hasn't white hair.
The Enormous Radio, John Cheever
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Post by callipygias on Oct 5, 2010 18:47:23 GMT -5
Her eyes were green as gooseberries. When she copulated, she always chewed bear's liver.
Taibele and Her Demon, Isaac Bashevis Singer
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Post by jkazoolien on Oct 5, 2010 23:41:08 GMT -5
"Though we longed not to be lonely, we also feared the pain it would take us to be brought out of our lonely states. And after that fear, could we be guaranteed that we would never be returned to a state of loneliness again? We could not." Francis Orme, Observatory Mansions: A Novel by Edward Carey
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Post by callipygias on Dec 15, 2010 0:18:12 GMT -5
Her eyes were a shade of gray between onyx and miscalculation.
On the Downhill Side, Harlan Ellison. I don't know what he means by that but I like the noiryness.
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Post by jkazoolien on Dec 15, 2010 0:40:17 GMT -5
"[W]hen you think of it, why would an infinitely powerful God even need six days? Wouldn't he have the ability to create everything in an instant? And, why would he have to rest when he was all done?" Victor J. Stenger -- God: The Failed Hypothesis[/i]
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Post by solgroupie on Feb 7, 2011 13:58:09 GMT -5
"music had stirred him like that. music had troubled him many times. but music was not articulate. it was not a new world, but rather another chaos, that it created in us. words! mere words! how terrible they were! how clear, and vivid, and cruel! one could not escape from them. and yet what a subtle magic there was in them! they seemed to be able to give a plastic form to formless things, and to have a music of their own as sweet as that of viol or of lute. mere words! was there anything so real as words? - the picture of dorian gray and other writings
oscar wilde
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Post by jkazoolien on Feb 7, 2011 15:14:49 GMT -5
"I profess, in the sincerity of my heart, that I have not the least personal interest in endeavoring to promote this necessary work, having no other motive than the public good of my country, by advancing our trade, providing for infants, relieving the poor, and giving some pleasure to the rich. I have no children by which I can propose to get a single penny; the youngest being nine years old, and my wife past child-bearing." -- A Modest Proposal: For Preventing the Children of Poor People in Ireland from Being a Burden to Their Parents or Country, and for Making Them Beneficial to the Public, closing paragraph
Jonathan Swift
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Post by callipygias on Feb 7, 2011 18:54:38 GMT -5
Their poop has valued nitrogen And helps our plants look green again. It really is a nifty bird And useful too, from beak to turd.
The Chicken, Trace Beaulieu
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Post by inlovewithcrow on Feb 8, 2011 16:31:42 GMT -5
"I have come to the conclusion that I am not a sociable person, which has made me wonder I thought I was for so many years. But then, what is a sociable person? Someone who can't bear to be alone, someone who has no intellectual interests, someone afraid of silence?"
Justin Cartwright, Leading the Cheers.
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Post by jkazoolien on Feb 9, 2011 16:39:17 GMT -5
"Ignorance is the parent of fear" Herman Melville -- Moby Dick
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Post by callipygias on Mar 19, 2011 12:56:38 GMT -5
The morning is yet to the nether end of the earth, and he is weary.
The Orchard Keeper, Cormac McCarthy. I wonder if they'll publish his poems posthumously. He has to have a chest of poems stashed somewhere.
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