I often lose myself in the Sudoku-like challenges of making a book work.
I still haven't quite got used to eating live fish.
I think we think in terms of stories.
I'm a novelist, that's how I make my livelihood, and I concentrate on the novels.
I'm from a time and place where bigheadedness was a really savage crime, and you'd get cut down for it by your peers and parents.
I'm not a great deep political thinker.
I've become a less brave traveller since I became a dad, but in the past I was more foolhardy than brave.
Strip back the beliefs pasted on by governesses, schools, and states, you find indelible truths at one's core.
Torturous advances won over generations can be lost by a single stroke of a myopic president's pen or a vainglorious general's sword.
We are both busy people, so let's cut the small talk.
Who was blowing on the nape of my neck?
The learnin' mind is the livin' mind, Meronym said, an any sort o'Smart is truesome Smart, old Smart or new high Smart or low.
Humans live in a pit of cheating, exploiting, hurting, incarcerating. Every time, the species wastes some part of what it could be. This waste is poisonous.
Men invented money Women invented mutual aid
I wonder if you encountered this dictum first spoken by a twentieth-century statesman: "An abyss cannot be crossed in two steps.
I lost my balance when the train pulled away, but a human crumple zone buffered my fall. We stayed like that, half fallen. Diagonal People.
- This isn't an interrogation or a trail. Your version of the truth is the only thing that matters. -Truth is singular. It's 'versions' are mistruths.
Any society's upper-crust is riddled with immorality, how else d'you think they keep their power? Reputation is king of the public sphere, not private. It is dethroned by public acts.
I pass through many Me's in the course of my day, each one selfish with his time. The Lying-in-Bed me and the Enjoying-the-Hot-Shower Me are particularly selfish. The Late Me loathes the pair of them.
Anticipating the end of the world is humanity's oldest passtime
Perpetual encagement endows any mirage of salvation with credibility.
Oh, bein' young ain't easy 'cos ev'rythin' you're puzzlin'n'anxin' you're puzzlin'n'anxin' it for the first time.
But you have read Madame Bovary?' (I'd never heard of her books.) 'No.
It's a small world. It keeps recrossing itself.
Try this for deviancy: fabricants are mirrors held up to purebloods' conscience; what purebloods see reflected there sickens them. So they blame you for holding the mirror." I hid my shock by asking when purebloods might blame themselves. Mephi replied, "History suggests, not until they are made to.
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