Kindle Notes & Highlights
I noticed on the far wall that the large framed pictures of Hank Williams and Mahatma Gandhi were still hanging there side by side. They were a little dusty and off-center, but who wasn’t that ever did anything great?
They had all been very close. Close as the cottonwoods standing by the river.
Not that I was a role model particularly. I just felt that if kids were going to screw up their lives, they ought to figure out how to do it themselves.
The cat said nothing. She was of an extremely secular bent and could not be drawn easily into conversations of a religious nature. This was, quite possibly, to her credit. I’ve known a lot of cats in my life who’ve gotten all worked up on the subject.
“Kinkster, how are you?” said J. Tom. “Long time between dreams,” I said.
I’d always wanted to be picked up by a UFO, but not before breakfast.
The summer was rolling obliviously along like a wayward beachball thrown onto the field of a nationally televised sporting event
This knowledge pressed brutishly against the translucent butterfly wings of my soul
I did not expect the hand of fate to be quite so well manicured.
“I don’t have any openings for male models, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”
I could tell she was in a more upbeat mood than I was. Sylvia Plath was in a more upbeat mood than I was.
“Almost makes me glad I’m still a closet heterosexual.” As
in the morning you were going to feel half dead. The other half didn’t feel too good, either.
hundreds of well-wishers show up who would just as soon wish you’d fallen down a well.
It looked like the Make-Believe Ballroom might’ve looked once you’d grown up and forgotten how to pretend.
