Every story is an act of trust between a writer and a reader: each story, in the end, is social. Whatever a writer sets down can help or harm a community of which he or she is a part. When I write I can imagine a child in California wishing to give a...
Yochabel: God of Abraham, take my child into Thy hands that he may live to Thy service. [Little Miriam bowed her head and prayed silently, while Yochabel prayed verbally] Little Miriam: But, mother, we have not even given him a name. Yochabel: God wi...
But why would they do that? What is to be asked? He was a man who sees things -- very ordinary things. A hat left on the floor of a café in Kingstown, a proverb overheard, an old fisherman mending a net: these, for him, were a kind of incitement. Th...
8 April 1891 The obscenity of nostrils and mouths; the ignominious cupidity of smiles and women encountered in the street; the shifty baseness on every side, as of hyenas and wild beasts ready to bite: tradesmen in their shops and strollers on their ...
Auric Goldfinger: [to Bond, who is about to be cut in half by a laser] There is nothing you can talk to me about that I don't already know. James Bond: Well, you're forgetting one thing. If I fail to report, 008 replaces me. Auric Goldfinger: I trust...
It had been in a Paris house, with many people around, and my dear friend Jules Darboux, wishing to do me a refined aesthetic favor, had touched my sleeve and said, "I want you to meet-" and led me to Nina, who sat in the corner of a couch, her body ...
One day, the old wise Socrates walks down the streets, when all of the sudden a man runs up to him "Socrates I have to tell you something about your friend who..." "Hold up" Socrates interrupts him "About the story you're about to tell me, did you pu...
