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Category Archive for 'Snapshot'

I wanted real adventures to happen to myself. But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad.

Dubliners - “An Encounter” - James Joyce, pg 20

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April Fools: Look at ‘em




“Look at ‘em” he said. “Goddam fools.”

“Who?” said Ginnie.

“I don’t know. Anybody.”
Nine Stories - “Just Before the War with the Eskimos” - J.D. Salinger, pg 48

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“But I don’t want comfort. I want God. I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.” 

“In fact,” said Mustapha Mond, “you’re claiming the right to be unhappy.”

“All right, then,” said the Savage defiantly, “I’m claiming the right to be unhappy.”
Brave New World - Aldous Huxley, [...]

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The fact that you got a little happier today doesn’t change the fact that you also became a little sadder. Every day you become a little more of both, which means that right now, at this exact moment, you’re the happiest and the saddest you’ve ever been in your whole life.
The History of Love [...]

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200,000 km

It took seven years, dozens of trips to New York, Chicago, Washington DC, Quebec City, big trips to Nova Scotia and Florida, but there I was, on the Lake Shore Blvd, stopped at a red light at Leslie Ave, at 200,000km. I even survived driving off a cliff with this car after one [...]

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St. Patrick’s Day Portraits

Maddie and Cooper dawn a Guinness box hat on St. Patrick’s Day.

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O lente lente currite noctis equi!
Doctor Faustus, Christopher Marlowe, V.ii.149

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The boy felt jealous of the freedom of the wind, and saw that he could have the same freedom. There was nothing to hold him back except himself.
The Alchemist - Paulo Coelho, pg 30

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Please blow your smoke elsewhere. My respiratory system, unfortunately, is below par. I suspect that I am the result of particularly weak conception on the part of my father. His sperm was probably emitted in a rather offhand manner.
A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole, pg 324

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If it weren’t for her…

If it weren’t for her, there would never have been an empty space, or the need to fill it.
The History of Love - Nicole Krauss, pg 57

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