I am not good at deception,' said Tuesday gloomily, flushing. Right, my boy, right,' said the President with a ponderous heartiness, 'You aren't good at anything.
The man is well inside the train before the dreadful truth occurs to me. He is the man from the newspaper. The rapist. My doppelganger. My mirrored doppelganger.” William Wilson in the short story 'Metro' by Steen Langstrup.
Don Severo dropped his fork, Doña Remedios nearly chocked, but Jesús carried on playing with his food. He’d never really liked broccoli.
Adelina knew perfectly well who the father was, but she worked hard to forget it, and by the end of her life she would insist that Jesús was her child and hers only.
His eyes, green with yellow sparks, and with elongated pupils like a cat’s, made his grandmother gasp and say: ‘Jesus! He has the devil’s eyes!
The selfishness of an age that has devoted itself to the mere cult of pleasure has tainted the whole human race with an error that makes all our acts more or less lies against God.
Man's thought is always of the punishment that will come to him if he sins. God's thought is always of the glory man will miss if he sins. God's purpose for redemption is glory, glory, glory.
Are you ready to go to the bedroom?" "I thought you'd never ask." He winked.
...it was if another planet were calling. The call, embodied, issued in liquid syllables from the mouth of the Arab sailor who, on the prow of the each sun-up, looked toward the East and sang the Persian song:
...women have done strange things; they are a far greater puzzle to the student of human nature than the sterner, less complex sex has ever been.
Into the face of the young man who sat on the terrace of the Hotel Magnifique at Cannes there had crept a look of furtive shame, the shifty hangdog look which announces that an Englishman is about to speak French.
Danger lies in the extreme. A man who is always cruel is evil, a man who is always compassionate will be taken advantage of. It is more a question of balance, or harmony, if you will.
When you go home you ought to go like a ray of light—so that it will, even in the night, burst out of the doors and windows and illuminate the darkness.
With every drop of my blood I hate and execrate every form of tyranny, every form of slavery. I hate dictation. I love liberty.
No matter what your spiritual condition is, no matter where you find yourself in the universe, your choice is always the same: to expand your awareness or contract it.
I can't say I know at this moment what all these laws are. But on some level everybody knows that we are all getting exactly what we deserve.
It is everything that makes a man. It is everything that makes this man. And that is who I am alive, and that is who I am dead.
You cannot expect a man to love you, but not because of your body or physical construction. It is like giving a man the option between choosing you and a monkey.
I do not believe that to be religious in the best, authentic sense a man has to destroy his love life and mummify himself, body and soul.
Prosperity and democracy does seem to be a good way to wean a population off massive alcohol abuse.
I'm turning into an old man. I own four pairs of oxfords, my stories get a little long winded, and my neighbors play their music too loud.