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And there sat Panenka among them, the only patient with nobody to accompany him.
Panenka felt that counterfeit calm of bad news, the withdrawal of feeling before it crashes back in later with the full force of realisation.
To him love was no union between two otherwise incomplete halves, but more like the gravity that locked two bodies into the same orbit, each doing their own thing but by reference to and in concert with the other.
Is this not such a modern relationship?
As far as she was concerned, the club was merely the owner of the town’s tallest building, and football was something that offered an identity to people who didn’t have one of their own.
Humans are by nature romantic creatures. By that I don’t mean full of love: I mean that they like the idea of things more than the reality of them.
Literature, hello
His philosophy was that of a Jesuit, building players from the inside and instilling in them a spiritual love of football.
ratter
New word
A tragedy has no cause until it has happened.
Love this existential pessimism <3
‘Well, wisdom is not as useful as it sounds. For one thing, it’s a poor timekeeper – it doesn’t usually arrive until after the fact.’
