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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #use
She thought it funny how the poor environment had been raped just fine until there was a sufficient excess of the people who had effected the raping to produce sufficient numbers of themselves who were sufficiently idle that they might begin to protest the raping of the environment, which was irretrievably lost to the raping by that point. And this would be the great soothing cathedral music, the stopping of the chainsaws amid the patter of acid rain, that all good citizens would listen to for the quarter-century it took them all to wire up to cyberspace and forget about the lost hopeless run-over gang-ridden land, reproducing madly still all the while, inside their bunkers listening to NPR. ↗
I hear it still. As I lay down my pen and take to my bed, I am aware of the bow being drawn across the bridge and the music rises into the night sky. It is far away and barely audible - but there it is! A pizzicato. Then a tremelo. The style is unmistakable. It is Sherlock Holmes who is playing. It must be. I hope with all my heart that he is playing for me . . . ↗
A brick could be used as a musical instrument. It doesn’t matter how bad it sounds, because I’ll be the band’s lead singer, and my sexy voice is like melted butter on a corn on the cob lodged directly into your anus. ↗
#brick-and-blanket-iq-test #brick-and-blanket-responses #brick-and-blanket-test #brick-and-blanket-uses #funny
I just want to be someone, to mean something to anyone… ↗
#confused #empty-roads-broken-bottles #finding-yourself #lost #lyrics
The tree leaves rustled like that noise e-books make when you turn the page. ↗
#nature #nayeri #wood-house #nature
A brick is a lot like love. I mean, I’m sure it is. It simply must be. However, I can’t think of how at the moment, but that’s natural, because I’m not Cupid. OK, here’s something: A brick has six sides, and love—wait, no, love only has five sides. Damn! A brick is red, and love—is transparent (visually it’s invisible, and truthfully it’s transparent). So color is out, shape is out—which leaves sound. A brick is silent, while love sounds like the hum of an electric generator. After a while, you may not hear it and you think it’s silent, but that’s only because you’re acclimated to it and have tuned it out. ↗
Fat Charlie had had no real liking for the police, but until now, he had still managed to cling to a fundamental trust in the natural order of things, a conviction that there was some kind of power--a Victorian might have thought of it as Providence--that ensured that the guilty would be punished while the innocent would be set free. This faith had collapsed in the face of recent events and had been replaced by the suspicion that he would spend the rest of his life pleading his innocence to a variety of implacable judges and tormenters, many of whom would look like Daisy, and that he would in all probability wake up in cell six the next morning to find that he had been transformed into an enormous cockroach. He had definitely been transported to the kind of maleficent universe that transformed people into cockroaches. ↗
