I recently finished a couple of books and thought I’d share a few quotes.
And Indian Benny, a quiet, meticulous waiter who had the sad airs of a man long accustomed to the spectacular demolition of dreams.
My brave Max, who could slip between two bumpers the way a lie can slide between a person’s teeth.
And from the subtle, confounding, confusing and ultimately insightful Chronic City:
Perkins held his forefinger to the VCR’s Fast-forward, which apparently needed to be continuously pressed, and not only moved with the speed of a man crawling across the desert but mimicked his groans as he died of thirst.
I mix my metaphors so I know I’m alive.–This was another kind of waiting room. I had no appointment and so it should not be strange that I was left there to wait a while. Yet I was left to wait a long time. It began to appear to seem to me that my appointment here was with the room itself, that I’d been installed here in order that I understand what the room had to tell me, and that I was expected to need a while to absorb it completely.–Perkus’ theories proved themselves ludicrous while demolishing any castles of consolation to which I might hope to retreat. They unmade those as they unmade themselves.