as I [Eve] was the only cook in all Christendom at the time, the idea of not coming home to dinner never occurred to Adam... It is true that at times he criticised my cooking, but in view of certain ancestral limitations from which he suffered, I nev...
I started to crawl off; then I remembered my leftover pizza, and I peeled off the salami, pepperoni, and anchovies and placed them on the CD tray (whicn no one used these days with flash drives around)on Boone's computer. I hit the close button and w...
In my lame pescetarian defense, it's very hard to be a girl and say you won't eat something. Refuse one plate of bacon-wrapped pork rinds and you're anorexic. Accept them and you're on the Atkins. Excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and you're buli...
There’s nothing like a good murder to remind us all how much love there is in the world. That’s what this guy’s probably thinking, as he stands alone and naked—emotionally, not physically—as he’s obviously wearing clothes made for another...
This guy has a look on his face like he’s just realized that one day he will most assuredly die. Killing someone has a way of focusing our minds on our own mortality. I mean I imagine it does, and not that I’d know from personal experience.
There’s nothing like a good murder to remind you that life is short. So are midgets. This guy was obviously not a midget, and that’s why he moved to the top of my suspect list (I arranged my suspects by height, rather than organized them alphabet...
Her attitude towards sex is very comforting to those of her friends who get into terrible states of passion and jealousy, and feel cut loose from their moorings. She seems to regard sex as a wholesome, slightly silly indulgence, like dancing and nice...
For years, I worked seven-day weeks, through birthdays and most public holidays, Christmases and New Year’s Eves included. I worked mornings and afternoons, resuming work after dinner. I remember feeling as if life were a protracted exercise in pul...
After dinner, at five o’clock, the crew distributed folding canvas cots to the passengers, and each person opened his bed wherever he could find room, arranged it with the bedclothes from his petate, and set the mosquito netting over that. Those wi...
My theory on literature is an author who does not indulge in trashiness-writes about people you could introduce into your own home...he did not care to read a book or go to a play about people he would not care to meet at his own dinner table. I beli...
When she said she’s making dinner, my initial reaction was, “Sex!” When she said she wanted to go lay down, my initial response was, “Sex!” No matter what she said, I always thought, “Sex!” She must be one freaky nymphomaniac, because e...
To choose to chew, rather than converse with my fellow dinner guests, was the choice I made when I chose the chewiest item on the menu. I wasn’t being rude. In fact, I was being polite. By ignoring them, I fulfilled and followed the aphorism: “It...
And you wanted to escape,' a man near me whispered to another man. 'You wanted to run off into the woods and fight. But do you see? Do you see what the rest of them think about us? These people would sell you back to the Nazis for a sack of potatoes ...
His mama put down the bag and headed for the door, her mouth a thin line. “Wait! What are you doing? Don’t go over there and yell at her.” Paul jumped off the stool and tried to beat her to the door. “Oh, honey, I would never do that.” His ...
Very few Englishmen ever ask a woman anything about themselves. They choose instead to lecture their dinner neighbors on a new and better route to the M5, or to praise their own professional achievements. So is a man does express any curiosity about ...
And now if you'll excuse me, I should like to finish my book, alone, without the presence of a single ringleted girl to disrupt me. If you should come for me at dinner and find me in my chair, gone to the angels at last, you shall know that I died al...
The brain is an incredible multitasker. At the same time that it’s piercing itself with superheated needles of anguish, it’s ruthlessly making plans, contingencies, plotting out a future, giving zero fucks whether it’ll ever see it. On the day ...
Reading was not an escape for her, any more than it is for me. It was an aspect of direct experience. She distinguished, of course, between the fictional world and the real one, in which she had to prepare dinners and so on. Still, for us, the fictio...
Looking up at [the sky], I think about the October evening world, where 'people' must be going about their lives. Beneath that pale autumn light, they must be walking down streets, going to the store for things, preparing dinner, boarding trains for ...
I had a dream about you. You were cooking me dinner, and I was standing by the stove questioning your every move. You found me ungrateful, and I found the number for Chinese takeout. I may not have wanted your food, but I still wanted your love. Your...
The other night my grandpa stopped breathing. I thought he was trying to set a world record for holding his breath, but after ten minutes of me cheering him on, he had to be boring and go and die on us and totally spoil our dinner. The good news was ...
