Category: Yo Ivanhoe

He asked Emilie to leave the curtains by this window undrawn at night, in order that, when people were asleep, the fish might look at the moon. —Isak Dinesen, “The Dreaming Child” What is the theme? he shouted at me. I’m sorry? I said. Your point! he bellowed. What is your point? Things are slippery?…

So ain’t we all inanimate, George? —Jim Thompson, Pop. 1280 I saw you spinning that greeting card rack at the truck stop. I saw the look in your eyes. You eventually moved to the next rack and bought a cheap pair of sunglasses instead. You’re tempted, aren’t you, always tempted to add some helpless contribution…

My heart of silk is filled with lights, with lost bells, with lilies and bees. I will go very far, farther than those hills, farther than the seas, to beg Christ the Lord to give me back the soul I had when I was a child, ripened with legends, with a feathered cap and a…

Whoever, so as to simplify problems, denies the existence of certain obligations has, in his heart, made a compact with crime. —Simone Weil, The Need For Roots How could I have expected that after a long life I would understand no more than to wake up at night and to repeat: strange, strange, strange, o…

For fifteen years I’d been waiting for the news that this poor, skinny fucker had turned up dead in a place just like this, but here he was, (barely) living proof that it didn’t require much in the way of cooperation and commitment to simply keep on breathing. It had probably been at least seven…

How strange. Do you see how much that poor creature has in its hands? And yet you’ve never known anyone with emptier arms. Look Closely: This Picture Is A Metaphor Is anybody alive out there? Would you care to show yourselves or produce some general murmur to announce your presence? This darkness is oppressive, and…