Courtenay

“To tell you he tries to open his eyes and finds they will not open would be to pick your pockets of a truth you are likely already in possession of, and perhaps wish to forget: that in our suffering, we are all of us totally, irrevocably alone.”
― A.K. Blakemore

“He wants to say: hunger is all I am and all my life is. Hunger runs through my veins like blood, branches through me like a fungus, swelling and renewing itself daily. I am lost on a sea of hunger, blue and black and heaving and full five fathoms deep below and rarely, rarely do I feel anything besides /hungry/, rarely, rarely does a jolt of feeling or emotion pierce the hide of my hunger, and never, never have I been able to live the life God presumably gave me to live, to dance and think and remember and kiss, no, all my life I have stood at the threshold of my life waiting to be let in because of this hunger, no living for Tarare.”
― A.K. Blakemore, The Glutton

“(Seldom have those dark trees heard laughter before. They will discuss it at length in the months to come.)”
― A.K. Blakemore, The Glutton