Larry

“The lovely thing about gonorrhea is microscopic, he thought. Reduced to its cellular structure it takes on a spectacular beauty, all stained glass and Persian carpets, shadings and meltings away, subtle shapes interlocking, unfolding, receding into dimness, then recurring boldly at just the right moment.

A man holds his injured penis gently, the boy-mouth curls in self-disgust while the fingers that lately gripped a gun and squeezed out streams of bullets are grown suddenly tender, sad and pitying, lifting the sickness up and out, resting it on the burry palm. Were he to weep it would be now when the sweet bird of his youth lies moist of beak, wizening of wing.”
― Richard Selzer MD, Knife Song Korea: A Novel

“Silence, I discover, is something you can actually hear.”
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

“He turned and looked at the boy. Standing with his suitcase like an orphan waiting for a bus.”
― Cormac McCarthy, The Road

“I remember thinking, listlessly, is this what it means to be happy? But now I feel it in my gut. Why is it that we have so little choice? We live like the lowliest worms. Always defeated—defeated we make dinner, we eat, we sleep. Everyone we love is dying. Still, to cease living is unacceptable.

Tonight, again, I felt the darkness hindering my breathing. In my heavy, depressed sleep, I battled each demon in turn.”
― Banana Yoshimoto, Kitchen