Mark Cox

“Then one day you find yourself in a boutique of terminal illness, forced to purchase something in order to use the bathroom, and from then on, you have nothing to think about except a catalogue of the instances you took when you could have given. My assistant said, “You are not alone.” “There is no time to update my software,” I snapped at her the next day, from my deathbed. “Who in God’s name cares if my cursor’s disappeared?” “What can I do for you?” she asked. That dreadful refrain. She offered me a cottage, a precious director, a bottomless brunch. The window was open, and the breeze was hot, and the pain was totalizing. “Blamelessness,” I told her. “Doctor my biography.”
― Tess Gunty, The Rabbit Hutch

“Concluding Remarks on Fame and Death: They’re both so lonely and boring. Bisous, Elsie Jane McLoughlin Blitz”
― Tess Gunty, The Rabbit Hutch

“She was tired of the boy’s smile; it had something of the formal beatitude of hippie greeting, mindless acceptance soul to soul. It annoyed her to see those things on a child’s face.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“He poured the tumbler full once more and he took a drink himself from the bottle and he wiped his mouth and turned to regard the room. This is an orchestration for an event. For a dance in fact. The participants will be apprised of their roles at the proper time. For now it is enough that they have arrived. As the dance is the thing with which we are concerned and contains complete within itself its own arrangement and history and finale there is no necessity that the dancers contain these things within themselves as well. In any event the history of all is not the history of each nor indeed the sum of those histories and none here can finally comprehend the reason for his presence for he has no way of knowing even in what the event consists. In fact, were he to know he might well absent himself and you can see that that cannot be any part of the plan if plan there be.”
― Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian: Or the Evening Redness in the West