Steven Marciano

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Fear and Loathing...
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  (page 74 of 274)
10 hours, 43 min ago

 
Hyperion
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  (page 272 of 500)
Apr 28, 2026 02:43AM

 
Paradise Lost
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  (page 150 of 453)
"Books V and VI. The war in heaven, Iliad-esque. Jesus flexes on the divine chariot. Satan and pals choose the abyss over the wrath of God" Mar 06, 2026 04:50PM

 
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John  Williams
“The young man, who does not know the future, sees life as a kind of epic adventure, an Odyssey through strange seas and unknown islands, where he will test and prove his powers, and thereby discover his immortality. The man of middle years, who has lived the future that he onced dreamed, sees life as a tragedy; for he has learned that his power, however great, will not prevail against those forces of accident and nature to which he gives the names of gods, and has learned that he is mortal. But the man of age, if he plays his assigned role properly, must see life as a comedy. For his triumphs and his failures merge, and one is no more the occasion for pride or shame than the other; and he is neither the hero who proves himself against those forces, nor the protagonist who is destroyed by them. Like any poor, pitiable shell of an actor, he comes to see that he has played so many parts that there no longer is himself.”
John Williams, Augustus

Virginia Woolf
“Volubly, troublously, the late clock sounded, coming in on the wake of Big Ben, with its lap full of trifles. Beaten up, broken up by the assault of carriages, the brutality of vans, the eager advance of myriads of angular men, of flaunting women, the domes and spires of offices and hospitals, the last relics of this lap full of odds and ends seemed to break, like the spray of an exhausted wave, upon the body of Miss Kilman standing still in the street for a moment to mutter "It is the flesh.”
Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

W.G. Sebald
“To set one's name to a work gives no one a title to be remembered, for who knows how many of the best of men have gone without a trace? The iniquity of oblivion blindly scatters her poppyseed and when wretchedness falls upon us one summer's day like snow, all we wish for is to be forgotten.”
W.G. Sebald, The Rings of Saturn

Ann Quin
“If I could trace a single line below the surface of my assumptions, would there come a point when clarity supersedes the chaos of what has been? The tragic sense of destiny is inherent in every man; but I defy fate, I alone am responsible for every action, every scene; in my nothingness I will create the idea, I shall see what I have imagined, and from that alone will spring my entire actions.”
Ann Quin, Berg

Cristina Campo
“Sprezzatura is a moral rhythm, it is the music of an interior grace; it is the tempo, I would like to say, in which the perfect freedom of any given destiny is made manifest”
Cristina Campo, The Unforgivable and Other Writings

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