A story can fly like a bee, so straight and swift you catch only the hum of its passing. Or move so slowly it seems motionless, curled in upon itself like a snake in the sun. It can vanish like smoke before the wind. Linger like perfume in the nose. ...
Now he slept soundly through the nights, and often he dreamed of trains, and often of one particular train: He was on it; he could smell the coal smoke; a world went by. And then he was standing in that world as the sound of the train died away. A fr...
Touching him, kissing him, was like having a fever all over again. I was on fire. My body burned. The world burned. Sparks flew. Against his mouth, I moaned. There was a POP! and CRACK! The smell of burned plastic filled the cubicle. We pulled apart,...
The plain below was just visible; infinitely vague and distant. Peering down between the boulders Irma could see the glint of water and tiny figures coming and going through drifts of rosy smoke, or mist. 'Whatever can those people be doing do there ...
I wasted a lot of time being angry, time I can't get back. And now I see you, so angry about what happened to your marriage, and I just want to tell you, at some point it doesn't matter who was right and who was wrong. At some point, being angry is j...
PLATITUDE, The fundamental element and special glory of popular literature. A thought that snores in words that smoke. The wisdom of a million fools in the diction of a dullard. A fossil sentiment in artificial rock. A moral without the fable. All th...
What did you put in the fire?" Kaladin said. "To make that special smoke?" "Nothing. It was just and ordinary fire." "But, I saw-" "What you saw belongs to you. A story doesn't live until it is imagined in someone's mind." "What does the story mean, ...
Because she hides. She doesn't realize it, I don't think, but she hides. Sometimes right in front of you. She can be sitting across from you at a table in a nice dining room somewhere and the expression on her face changes suddenly and she disappears...
No other drug can compete with cannabis for its ability to satisfy the innate yearnings for Archaic boundary dissolution and yet leave intact the structures of ordinary society. If every alcoholic were a pothead, if every crack user were a pothead, i...
Writing is.... being able to take something whole and fiercely alive that exists inside you in some unknowable combination of thought, feeling, physicality, and spirit, and to then store it like a genie in tense, tiny black symbols on a calm white pa...
That is, I fancy, the true doctrine on the subject of Tales of Terror and such things, which unless a man of letters do well and truly believe, without doubt he will end by blowing his brains out or by writing badly. Man, the central pillar of the wo...
Glory: I look around at this world you're so eager to be a part of and all I see is six billion lunatics looking for the fastest ride out. Who's not crazy? Look around, everyone's drinking, smoking, shooting up, shooting each other, or just plain scr...
Elias: [removing a smoking black basket of fries] I don't think these look right. Randal Graves: Jesus! Step away from the fryer before you burn us all alive! Elias: It's not my fault you abandoned your post! Randal Graves: Was it too much to ask tha...
Cop At Scene: Hey, Detective. Nice entrance. Graham: Fuck you. [to Detective Carr] Graham: Hey. Detective Carr: You okay? Graham: I'm freezing. Detective Carr: Shit. I heard it might snow. Graham: Get outta here. Detective Carr: That's what I heard. ...
[Cole Wilson, Conway Twill and Johnny 'The Kid' Pickett are sitting at John Dickinson's desk] Conway Twill: Hey Wilson, got any extra tobacco? [Cole looks at him and says nothing] Conway Twill: Uh. Of course, you wouldn't have any 'extra' tobacco. Ho...
Frank Costello: There is no need to remind you that if you don't find that cheese eating rat bastard in your department... it won't be me who suffers for it. Colin Sullivan: What I be any good at my job if I didn't fucking already know that? Frank Co...
First Man at Auto Shop: Here's where the infant's head went through the wind-shield. Three points. Man #2 at Auto Shop: The teenager's braces are still wrapped around the backseat ashtray. Might make a good anti-smoking ad. First Man at Auto Shop: Th...
Giosué Orefice: Buttons and soap. Guido: What? Giosué Orefice: They turn us into buttons and soap. Guido: Who told you that? Giosué Orefice: An old man was crying. He said they turn us into buttons and soap. They burn us all up in ovens. Guido: Ho...
Mr. Allen, Master: [after seeing that the Acheron is closing in on them] My God, what can we do? He has us by the hip. Capt. Jack Aubrey: Run like smoke and oakum. Mr. Allen, Master: We'll have to bend every sail. Capt. Jack Aubrey: We'll put up our ...
Foulfellow: [after drunkenly singing "Hi-Diddle-Dee-Dee"] And the dummy fell for it. [laughs] Foulfellow: Hook, line and sinker! [laughs again] Gideon: [Dips a smoke-ring in his beer and takes a bite] Hiccup! Foulfellow: And he still thinks we're his...
Beeks: This is as far as we go. No more cockamamie cigar smoke. No more Swedish meatballs there, tootsie. And no more phony Irish whiskey. No more goddamn jerky beef! The party's over. Harvey: The party's over? Hey, come on! What do you mean, the par...
