Liam James > Recent Status Updates

"...he sometimes came out with his guess quite loud, and very often guessed quite right, too; for the sharpest needle, best Whitechapel, warranted not to cut in the eye, was not sharper than Scrooge; blunt as he took it in his head to be." Who knew Scrooge had low self-esteem.

But how hot of a blind man's buff game is this! "She often cried out that it wasn’t fair; and it really was not. But when at last, he caught her; when, in spite of all her silken rustlings, and her rapid flutterings past him, he got her into a corner whence there was no escape; then his conduct was the most execrable. For his pretending not to know her; his pretending
that it was necessary to touch her head-dress..."

"When Scrooge’s nephew laughed in this way: holding his sides, rolling his head, and twisting his face into the most extravagant contortions: Scrooge’s niece, by marriage, laughed as heartily as he. And their assembled friends being not a bit behindhand, roared out lustily." All I gotta say is I gotta hang out with these guys!

"If you should happen, by any unlikely chance, to know a man more
blest in a laugh than Scrooge’s nephew, all I can say is, I should like to
know him too. Introduce him to me, and I’ll cultivate his acquaintance." I just love how the narrator talks so personably to you!

"He sat very close to his father's side upon his little stool. Bob held his withered little hand in his, as if he loved the child and wished to keep him by his side, and dreaded that he might be taken from him." If this doesn't break you up into little tremulous bits, you're not human.

Who would've thought Scrooge a reader! Look at his little self there in the schoolhouse, all enamored with Ali Baba: "Suddenly a man, in foreign garments: wonderfully real and distinct to look at: stood outside the window, with an ax stuck in his belt, and leading by the bridle an ass laden with wood. 'Why, it’s Ali Baba!' Scrooge exclaimed in ecstasy." I tell you, no film can capture that.

Who would've thought Scrooge a reader! Look at his little self there in the schoolhouse, all enamored with Ali Baba! "Suddenly a man, in foreign garments: wonderfully real and distinct to look at: stood outside the window, with an ax stuck in his belt, and leading by the bridle an ass laden with wood. 'Why, it's Ali Baba!' Scrooge exclaimed in ecstasy." I tell you, no film can capture that.

Okay, back from my slump, or more accurately, my chaotic schedule that makes Liam a dull boy! but I digress, this story's bombast and bonkers and every kind of boom! I'll just say I didn't expect Kismine to be so... so... insane! Would anyone foresee the barbaric blood behind those blue eyes? Probably, the perceptive; while I'm lost upon each emerald and ruby, not to mention her walking barefoot in the grass!

That bath or shower was absolutely amazing. And the flutes! oh, the flutes; the way they melt! Delicious

The dialogue in the tent between Macomber and Margot, after Margot did you know what with you know who, spiked my pulse, and not at all in a good way.

I just don’t get it. He’s loving her company, listening to the sound of her voice when, “at length its melody was tainted with terror, and there fell a shadow upon my soul, and I grew pale.” Damnit Poe! Why you always gotta ruin a good thing!

So interesting; in the outset, he talks of his soul burning "with fires it had never before known; but the fires were not of Eros, and bitter and tormenting to my spirit was the gradual conviction that I could in no manner define their unusual meaning or regulate their vague intensity." Such an authentic description for how some experience strong emotion -I can't call it love- indeed, some can't love, like this man.

“Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or a silly action, for no other reason than because he knows he should not? Have we not a perpetual inclination, in the teeth of our best judgment, to violate that which is Law, merely because we understand it to be such? This spirit of perverseness, I say, came to my final overthrow. It was this unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself-“ Crazy!

Thus far, my favorite Poe stories have all been titled with female names, hence, I'm excited to start this one, hopefully tonight if my headache subsides.

Well, this is so far turning out rather interesting. We know he's slain someone, and most of us know who -but isn't it really the how things happen rather than what when reading Poe? Anyway, he's now telling of a sort of nemesis, a competitor, while at school. And he makes such astute comments about bullies and the physical dominance that goes on at these institutions, believe me I know. Anyhow, I'm out of charac

“I avoided writers very carefully because they can perpetuate trouble as no one else can.” Too funny, and sad as well.

Whoa, Anson is strong. The way he carries on, laughing, socializing, thriving in business; it's impressive. But what's most impressive is his conviction. I don't think he ever feels guilt; pain sure, but never guilt. Even after (spoiler alert; I hope this is sufficient, for the GR people are already after me) his direct condemnation of his aunt and her affair results in her mistress plunging to his doom... even then

“For a long time afterward Anson believed that a protective God sometimes interfered in human affairs. But Dolly Karger, lying awake and staring at the ceiling, never again believed in anything at all.” Oh, this is painful.

“She danced exquisitely--better than anything she liked to dance--better than anything except making love.” Good God, Anson, you lucky son-of-a-b*tch.

My favorite line in literature: “In the evening he went out as usual, saying nothing of what had occurred; he was cordial, humorous, unabstracted. But one thing he could not help--for three days, in any place, in any company, he would suddenly bend his head into his hands and cry like a child.”

“The words wrung her heart like hands, and Anson, feeling her tremble, knew that emotion was enough. He need say no more, commit their destinies to no practical enigma. Why should he, when he might hold her so, biding his own time, for another year--forever? He was considering them both, her more than himself.” God, Anson you’re stupid.

“His despair was helpless before his pride and his knowledge of himself: the engagement was definitely broken.” Oh yeah, been there. What am I talking about, I live there.

"The only way I can describe young Anson Hunter is to approach him as if he were a foreigner and cling stubbornly to my point of view." This is one of the many things I like about Fitzgerald; he's modest in a sense, indeed he knows some of his opinions are quite dubious -then as they are now- nevertheless, he clings to them. Well, good for him.

God, is this a good dream or a nightmare! I can’t even tell! “She said that he was perfectly right about Honoria- she wanted Honoria to be with him. She said she was glad he was being good and doing better. She said a lot of other things—very friendly things—but she was in a swing in a white dress, and swinging faster and faster all the time, so that at the end he could not hear clearly all that she said.”

This, in reference to his girl, saying goodbye, like an angel: “He waited in the dark street until she appeared, all warm and glowing, in the window above and kissed her fingers out into the night.”

“And Aunt Marion and Uncle Lincoln—which do you like best?’ ‘Oh, Uncle Lincoln, I guess.’ He was increasingly aware of her presence. As they came in, a murmur of ‘… adorable’ followed them, and now the people at the next table bent all their silences upon her, staring as if she were something no more conscious than a flower.” I wasn’t aware at first, but Charlie was, oh Charlie certainly was!

“…he suddenly realized the meaning of the word “dissipate”—to dissipate into thin air; to make nothing out of something.” This in literal reference to Montmartre, but man, you can feel the culpability can’t you.

Oh man. This dude don’t even remember his child being taken from him? Damn.

Oh man. This dude don’t even remember his child being taken from him? I got nothing