fiction

War has been glorified by men who have never been shot at.

Yes, the saint was underrated quite a bit, then, mostly by people who didn__ like things that were ineffable_a lot of people don__ like things that are unearthly, the things of this earth are good enough for them, and they don__ mind telling you so. __f he__ just go out and get a job, like everybody else, then he could be saintly all day long_ __rom __he Temptations of St. Anthony,_ by Donald Barthelme

My great-great grandfather and I were the best of friends, although we never met

If you focus your eyes towards the horizon, everything and everyone walking in front of you becomes a blurry mass. That's what everyone else became. All of their dark wool suits began to mesh into one, and they began to rhythmically march in unison, all while I gazed at the sliver of sky that seemed to be pressed tightly in between the skyscrapers. I kept on walking and staring at the sky, and I began to notice the skyscrapers becoming larger and larger, and before I knew it, I had to turn to get to my building, and of course, the automat.

Fiction is just that__iction. Yes, it is serious business, but it should also be taken for face value. It__ entertainment. It__ escapism. It__ 365 pages of relaxation.

If reality is as equally valuable as fiction, then you should just chalk up the parts of the past you don__ need to your imagination

He is a free man, not because is in a poition of political power and influence that you will never be able to achieve, and not because he has more character and heart in his fingertip than you have in your entire being, but because he is a man, and is thus entitled to be free.

I shook Alan__ hand and the feeling just grew stronger. It was a bit frustrating. Like when you__e looking for what to say and it__ on the tip of your tongue, but no matter how hard you try, it just keeps eluding you.

Reality is such a pain. Those of us who were fed up with that kind of reality decided to remake it. We__ set up a partition, separate what__ important to us from what was trash, put only the things we loved on our side, and got rid of the rest.

So now begins the first war with Cordelia' in which I retreat and thereby teach her to be victorious as she pursues me. I continually fall back, and in this backward movement I teach her to know through me all the powers of erotic love, its turbulent thoughts' its passion, what longing is, and hope, and impatient expectancy. As I perform this set of steps before her' all this will correspondingly in her' It is a triumphant procession in which I am leading her, and I myself am just as much the one who dithyrambically sings praises to her victory as I am the one who shows the way. She will gain courage to believe in erotic love, to believe it is an etemal force, when she sees its dominion over me, sees my movements. She will believe me, partly because I rely on my artistry, and partly because at the bottom of what I am doing there is truth. If that were not the case, she would not believe me. With my every move, she becomes stronger and stronger; love is awakening in her soul; she is being enthroned in her meaning as a woman

There are two ways to ruin any chances of leading a happy life. The first is to chase a goal twenty-four hours a day, day after day, and gladly give up all the little laughs and joys that life has to offer in exchange for that ever-elusive moment of jubilation. The second way is far worse, in that it NEVER fails. You know what it is, Sam? Falling in love with someone who chases a goal twenty four hours a day.

They were rebellious through their artistic expression and their uplifting spirits

I have never battled a gargoyle before._ Zacharel shook his head, a dark lock of hair tumbling into one emerald eye. Damp from the melting snow, the hair stuck to his skin. He didn__ seem to notice. __ut I am certain these will murder Paris before willingly carrying him inside.__s if he were the only intelligent life form left in existence, William splayed his arms. __nd the problem with that? He__l still be inside, exactly where he wants to be. And by the way,_ he added, blinking at Paris with lashes so long they should have belonged to a girl. __our new permanent eyeliner is very pretty. You__l make a good-looking corpse.__o not react. He did, and the teasing about his ash/ambrosia tattoos would never end. __hanks.___ prefer the lip liner, though. A nice little feminine touch that really makes your eyes pop.___gain, thanks,_ he gritted.He wants us!Stupid demon.William grinned. __aybe we can make out later. I know you want me.__ell him yes!Not another word out of you, or___aris? Warrior?_ Zacharel said. __re youlistening to me?___o.__ach nodded, apparently not the least offended. __ enjoy your honesty, though I believe you suffer from what the humans call ADD.___h, yeah. I definitely have attention deficient demon.

His cell-phone rang. Dominic fumbled for it on the nightstand next to the couch, the dim lights not helping his endeavour. He had piercing, generic, banal fluorescent lights on his face all the time at work and at University, it was so bad it made him loathe even natural sunlight. Lucky this apartment__ living room light had a dimmer. He flipped open his phone and said hello. __ey Dom, how you doin_?_ a voice boomed. It was Ben. They proceeded to talk about the upcoming exams, which were deceptively close as it was week 10 at the moment. Yes, they would be alright. Yes, they would meet up afterwards. No, he hadn__ studied more than Ben had. As he clapped the phone closed after the genial conversation reached its natural nadir, he had forgotten most of what had been said

Workshop Hermeticism, fiction for which the highest praise involves the words 'competent,' 'finished,' 'problem-free,' fiction over which Writing-Program pre- and proscriptions loom with the enclosing force of horizons: no character without Freudian trauma in accessible past, without near-diagnostic physical description; no image undissolved into regulation Updikean metaphor; no overture without a dramatized scene to 'show' what's 'told'; no denouement prior to an epiphany whose approach can be charted by and Freitag on any Macintosh.

I am the happiest person on this world, who has never seen ups and downs in life. I got whatever I wished for_ And I woke up!

I didn't even notice that my shoes were full of mud by the time I reached the rocky shore. There was ragged yellow police tape tied to some branches, dancing in the wind. It was as if the tape was waving, welcoming me back to place where I would have died.

Now, then, that is the tale. Some of it is true.