Sunday, July 7, 2013
I have a plan for you.
— Hamburg Airport Employee
Saturday, July 6, 2013
You have to live a little.
— Liz
Friday, July 5, 2013
What she order? Fish fillet.
— Kanye West, “Ni**as in Paris”
Thursday, July 4, 2013
I have to take my shoes off because I have corn nuts in my feet.
— John
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Don’t be in a hurry.
— Macrina
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
And his tongue felt agile as a butterfly.
— John Updike, “Bech in Rumania”
Monday, July 1, 2013
Sometimes her English had a weird precision.
— John Updike, “Rich in Russia”
Sunday, June 30, 2013
A man is never more himself than when he talks nonsense about God.
— Frank O'Connor, “A Story by Maupassant”
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Time collapses upon itself.
— John
Friday, June 28, 2013
This is somehow how history is written.
— Xenophon
Thursday, June 27, 2013
I’m related to camels.
— Slobodan Ćurčić
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
She was the queer things in him, like the pecan tree and liking books and caring enough about people to let them hurt him.
— Truman Capote, “Children on Their Birthdays”
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Do you remember what it was like - alone?
— Franz Kafka, “The Judgement”
Monday, June 24, 2013
She would spend fruitless, anxious and enjoyable hours trying to disentangle and isolate her various emotions, and to assess their respective values.
— Margaret Drabble, “The Gifts of War”
Sunday, June 23, 2013
And if you can’t see it, then you’re blind.
— Jesse, Before Midnight
Saturday, June 22, 2013
I, however, am convinced that if you possess the true faith, you must also be able to sell it.
— Robert Musil, “The Paintspreader”
Friday, June 21, 2013
In this sense, jacket design is a kind of interpretational utilitarianism.
— Peter Mendelsund, “1. Fictions,” Jacket Mechanical
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Which I was pretty sure were fish.
— Peter Mendelsund, “James Joyce. For Vintage Books.,” Jacket Mechanical
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Red meat.
— Tom Hanks, Lucky Guy
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
The contents would certainly not stand up to the wrapping.
— Ian Fleming, “From a View to a Kill”