Lokee

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Writing Manhood i...
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Netherland
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The Foundations o...
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Oscar Wilde
“I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning, and took out a comma. In the afternoon I put it back again.”
Oscar Wilde

Marilynne Robinson
“Every spirit passing through the world fingers the tangible and mars the mutable, and finally has come to look and not to buy.”
Marilynne Robinson, Housekeeping

Joseph Heller
“They're trying to kill me," Yossarian told him calmly.
No one's trying to kill you," Clevinger cried.
Then why are they shooting at me?" Yossarian asked.
They're shooting at everyone," Clevinger answered. "They're trying to kill everyone."
And what difference does that make?”
Joseph Heller, Catch-22

William Faulkner
“In a strange room you must empty yourself for sleep. And before you are emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep, you are not. And when you are filled with sleep, you never were. I don't know what I am. I don't know if I am or not. Jewel knows he is, because he does not know that he does not know whether he is or not. He cannot empty himself for sleep because he is not what he is and he is what he is not. Beyond the unlamped wall I can hear the rain shaping the wagon that is ours, the load that is no longer theirs that felled and sawed it nor yet theirs that bought it and which is not ours either, lie on our wagon though it does, since only the wind and the rain shape it only to Jewel and me, that are not asleep. And since sleep is is-not and rain and wind are was, it is not. Yet the wagon is, because when the wagon is was, Addie Bundren will not be. And Jewel is, so Addie Bundren must be. And then I must be, or I could not empty myself for sleep in a strange room. And so if I am not emptied yet, I am is.

How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home.”
William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying

Jean Toomer
“Her Lips Are Copper Wire”

whisper of yellow globes
gleaming on lamp posts that sway
like bootleg licker drinkers in the fog

and let your breath be moist against me
like bright beads on yellow globes

telephone the power-house
that the main wires are insulate

(her words play up and down
dewy corridors of billboards)

then with your tongue remove the tape
and press your lips to mine
till they are incandescent”
Jean Toomer, Cane

year in books
Harry
279 books | 86 friends

Laura
883 books | 75 friends

Jay Dove
2 books | 6 friends

Zach
164 books | 9 friends

Blackbockz
184 books | 70 friends

Ramon
170 books | 6 friends

Carlos ...
9 books | 81 friends




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