1868 0 0
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As children we invent games and we're really creative. We concoct ridiculous rules and enjoy making adaptations to them. And everything makes sense. Then you grow up, lose creativity. You don't invent games anymore. Recess is replaced with a second…
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1868 6 6
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The book mind, just like its namesake the book, is capable of movement only after its assembly: otherwise, it boasts no moving parts.
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1868 3 3
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Last night, the station played me a dream of sexual promiscuity that included -- but was not limited to -- imaginative acts involving....
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"Everything except food and sex."
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Oh, and take off all your jewelry unless you want your relatives sifting you through a window screen looking for your diamond.
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1867 9 8
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In the beginning the revolution was all motion and energy. When the President for Life resigned motion and energy disappeared with the sounds of clapping hands.
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1867 2 0
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A universe, all of it, was encased in glass.
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Eyes so much deeper, that the internal flow could not hope to equal the intensity fired beyond iris, pupil and sclera. So blue, that life could not exist in the fragile shape of his heart, blue veins outlining an ever enlargening circumference…
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1867 2 1
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My name is Lu-chen Wyatt, and I have watched this tomb for seven years with undying loyalty. Tomorrow I am going away, and I wish to set down the story of my leaving and to say goodbye to Set-Yi, whose burial place has been my home for so long.
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Billy had crystal blue eyes A small mouth And long hair to cover up his Hearing aids. He told me once, with his hands How he liked to submerge His head in water and yell So loud he could feel it. "I can hear myself that way," he…
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1867 3 1
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We’re all competitive and drunk.
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1867 5 4
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It was Brad, for short; or so he would say. But really his name was Bradford, and he was a writer. He had almost always lived in New York. He was only half-white. His mother had run away with a black man in the sixties. Her father had told her to never come back to…
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1867 2 0
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They were starting to get winded. The boy, his father and his little brother were hiking up a hill, cutting a diagonal path through hay-colored grass towards an outcrop of craggy boulders below the hill's summit.
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1867 4 1
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fated and cruel, a person I don't love
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Cleaning the dust bunnies from under our lives, Zin says she wants to move to the country, maybe someplace as big as Texas. She claims that lately she's having trouble breathing between bricks or talking to hot chestnut vendors with rubber faces. It's giving her nightmares…
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1866 4 2
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He returned to America on the Fourth of July. Twisting in his cramped window seat miles above the Atlantic, he buckled up before the descent. “You can handle this,” he muttered. Hungover, still reeling from the dreamy head-turning experience of…
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1866 1 0
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“What I really want to know is, why is a straight guy called Caspar opening a lesbian leather bar in Berlin anyway?” Shona asked. “Schöneberg must really be going to the dogs.”
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1866 2 2
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No one is a Puritan under all that powder!
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1866 12 7
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The end is rehearsed over and over;/
in a world without heaven all is farewell.
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1866 1 1
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When Kim handed me some of her husband’s condoms—“Here, use these”—out of one of their bedroom dresser drawers, could she sense the astonishment I was trying my best not to show?
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1866 20 8
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Phoebe-Lou Adams wrote this of them
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1865 8 4
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Fred's ruined face stared back at him from a fractured, mold-spotted mirror. The remains of breakfast pooled around his feet and a pair of lace panties clung to his shoe, glued there by God knew what. Bits of flesh were stuck between his yellow teeth, alo
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1865 4 0
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There was that long weekend she'd spent lazing around a suite at the Beverly Wilshire between the Golden Globes and the Oscars with the suddenly now married actor, and then there had been Cabo. This was before the current thing and before the thing before
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1865 12 9
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What happened later that evening is unclear. When Mickey got back to his quarters, he was in good spirits. Buoyant even.
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1865 4 2
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Two people are talking. They are both wearing hats.
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1865 1 0
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It was stubborn early winter, when everyone was cold but went outside anyways, rubbing red fingers and shuffling feet.
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There’s not enough cigarette cloud to conceal her, malnourished and pale beneath blue and pink lights that summon 80s-era skate rinks. She saunters towards the center of the stage, asking her bored expression to convey detachment, while a DJ that fits the
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1865 6 2
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They stood at the intersection waiting for the light to change so they could cross the highway.
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1864 19 13
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The squirrels will not stop peeing on the trees.
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