About Mason Cooley: Mason Cooley is killing me."
The horse stares at its captor, barely remembering the free kicks of youth.
Reputation runs behind the current state of affairs.
Rereading, we find a new book.
Totem poles and wooden masks no longer suggest tribal villages but fashionable drawing rooms in New York and Paris.
Old and young disbelieve one another's truths.
Mind and body obstruct one another's pleasures.
Documents create a paper reality we call proof.
Fastidious taste makes enjoyment a struggle.
I did not know I was in my prime until afterwards.
The body has a mind of its own.
Thinking about the universe has now been handed over to specialists. The rest of us merely read about it.
Journalism never admits that nothing much is happening.
Some loves are like a vice that has ceased to give pleasure.
The sage belongs to the same obsolete repertory as the virtuous maiden and the enlightened monarch.
We are more tied to our faults than to our virtues.
The aim of literary ambition is to demonstrate one's greatness of soul.
The novel avoids the sublime and seeks out the interesting.
If we think about the obvious long enough, it dissolves.
Children now expect their parents to audition for approval.
My parents wanted me to solace them for sorrows they denied having had.
Other people's beliefs may be myths, but not mine.
