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It may seem strange that people who have already attained a position of power through violence invest so much time in justifying their plunder with words. But even plunderers are human beings whose violent ambitions must contend with the guilt that gnaws at them when they meet the eyes of their victims. And so a story must be told, one that raises a wall betweem themselves and those they seek to throttle and rob.

To be whole is to be part
true voyage is return

‘Were Urrasti cabinetmakers all celibate?’

Though nothing can bring back the hour
of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower
We will grieve not, rather find
strength in what remains behind
In the primal sympathy
which having been must ever be
In the soothing thoughts that spring
out of human suffering
In the faith that looks through death
In the years that bring the philosophic mind.

Art is not a horse race. Literature is not the Olympics. The hell with The Great American Novel. We gave all the great novels we need right now - and right now someone is writing a new one we won’t know we needed till we read it.

Kurs komputerowy i angielskiego w Kabulu zamknięto.
Prem nie wrócił.
Po raz pierwszy talibowie rzucili kłodę pod nogi Arianie, która dołączyła do grona Beliebers.

Queer is not merely another identity that can be tacked onto a list of neat social categories, nor the quantitative sum of our identities. Rather, it is the qualitative position of opposition to presentations of stability - an identity that problematizes the manageable limits of identity. Queer is a territory of tension, it is the abnormal, the strange, the dangerous. Queer is our desire and fantasies and more still.

I am often struck by the dangerous narcissism fostered by spiritual rhetoric that pays so much attention to individual self-improvement and so little to the practice of love within the context of community.

Now I believe, if you’ll excuse a brief digression, that life is full of enigmas, minimal events that, at the slightest touch or glance, set off chains of consequences, which, viewed through the prism of time, invariably inspire astonishment and fear.

‘It’s true that I haven’t seen much of other cities, only Philadelphia and Albany, but I swear that New York must be the ugliest and the dirtiest city in the world. It must have the ugliest buildings and the nastiest people. If any place is worse, it’s got to be so close to hell that you can smell the people frying. And, come to think of it, that’s exactly the smell of New York in the summertime.’

To be sensual is to respect and rejoice in the force of life, of life itself, and to be present in all that one does, from the effort of loving to the breaking of bread.