“Bang. You’re dead.”
Photo by Maria Lysenko
I called her beautiful, although I don’t believe she heard it.
But others did, and so began, a little trial with a verdict.
Please demonstrate you understand her journey and her dreams.
And did you consult this 12 point list of all that beauty means?
I was called out I must admit, I spoke before I thought.
I stand corrected once again, as often as is not.
I hemmed, I hawed, I dropped my gaze, I was really on the spot.
Let me re-phrase, I begged the court, I meant to say, “She’s hot.”
d.j.-2021-03-18
First Paragraph:
“After all,” said the Duchess vaguely, “there are certain things you can’t get away from. Right and wrong, good conduct and moral rectitude, have certain well-defined limits.”
—Saki, The Best of Saki: Selected wtih an Introduction by Graham Greene
First Paragraph:
“There was once a boy named Milo who didn’t know what to do with himself—not just sometimes, but always.”
—Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth
Well gang, I guess it’s time I confess that I’ve been posting these last few months from my cell in a remote Russian gulag.
I finally received a second pillow for good behavior.
I’ve been told I can hang a painting after the next security check.
Treats received today from my good friend Will Leathem. I read them immediately.
Books can have so many lives.
I wonder where this one has been.
All these acquisitions, and any that aren’t here but on the way, are justified by the fact that…I wanted them.
If you listen to Louis Armstrong from 1929, you will never hear anything better than that…You will never hear anything more free than that.
—Steve Lacy
For my running and rowing friends.
Photo by Jeremy Lapak
“There was a moment in which he knew he could not go on. He had begun at the wrong pace, another and better man’s pace, had seen the man come almost at once to the top of his strength, hitting his stride without effort, unlimbering and lining out and away. And like a fool he had taken up the bait, whole and at once, had allowed himself to be run into the ground. In the next instant his lungs should burst, for now they were burning with pain and the pain had crowded out the last and least element of his breath, and he should stumble and fall. But the moment passed. The moment passed, and the next and the next, and he was running still, and still he could see the dark shape of the man running away in the swirling mist, like a motionless shadow. And he held on to the shadow and ran beyond his pain.”
—N. Scott Momaday, House Made of Dawn
First Paragraph:
“Dypaloh. There was a house made of dawn. It was made of pollen and of rain, and the land was very old and everlasting. There were many colors on the hills, and the plain was bright with different-colored clays and sands. Red and blue and spotted horses grazed in the plain, and there was a dark wilderness on the mountains beyond. The land was still and strong. It was beautiful all around.”
—N. Scott Momaday, House Made of Dawn