Kendra_Smith_Laughs’s Reviews > Suttree > Status Update

"What time is it Daddy? Four nineteen. Well. Stop again when you can stay longer. I'll do it, said the railroader. And don't forget to save me some of that there pitch if you've got it to spare. Okay. I allowed ye'd gone under when I didn't see ye on the river. No. Well. He watched the old man go across the steaming fields, tottering stiffly in his overalls."

"Suttree groaned. A switchengine shunted cars in a distant yard, telescoping them in crescendo coupling by coupling to an iron thunder that rattled sashwork all down McAnally Flats. By this clangorous fanfare dull shapes with sidling eyes and pale green teeth congealed with menace out of the dark of the hemissphere."

"They rolled through the dim shires of McAnally singing rude songs and passing a bottle about in the musty old car. Wake up, Sut, and take ye a drink. What's wrong with old Suttree. Suttree's all right, said J-Bone."

"Out in the baking street with the bills wadded together in the toe of his pocket he swung along whistling. He went up Vine to Gay Street and along the walk by pawn-shop windows. Wares to find a thousand trades. Consulting with his image in the glass he studied a display of knives. Come in, come in. A round and shirtsleeved merchant from the doorway. Suttree moved along."

"Suttree took the rope loose from the rail and began to haul the skiff along the side of the houseboat. It yawed and wallowed in the river. He threw the rope ashore and went down the plank and retrieved it from the mud and miring to his anklebones he eased the skiff in."

"Sundays a female evangelist from Knoxville would come out to hold service in the chapel downstairs. Concrete tabernacle, small wooden podium. The prisoners who went seemed stricken nigh insensate by this word of God strained distaff they were hearing"

"Sundays a female evangelist from Knoxville would come out to hold service in the chapel downstairs. Concrete tabernacle, small wooden podium. The prisoners who went seemed stricken nigh insensate by this word of God strained distaff they were hearing. Lounging in the wooden folding chairs, heads lolling."

"He went solitary and starlit through the sleepfast countryside, trotting soundlessly on his soft-worn shoes, past dead houses and dark land with the odour of ripe and humid fruits breathing in the fields and nightbirds crying in the keep of enormous birds."

"Through the midnight emptiness the few sounds carry with amphoric hollow and the city in its quietude seems to lie under edict. The buildings lean upon the dim and muted corridors where the watchman's heels click away the minutes"

"The uncle came through the door, looking about, hesitant. He stopped in the center of the room, arrested in the quadrate bar of dusty light davited between the window and its skewed replica on the far wall, a barren countenance cruelly lit, eyes watery and half closed with their slack pendules of flesh hanging down his cheeks. His hands moved slightly with the wooden smile he managed. Hey boy, he said."