“Then the wooden benches along the walls, where so many outcasts had slept, would be lit by a sort of slow, clocked lightning til the bulb steadied and fastened its tiny feral fury upon the center of the room like a single sullen and manic eye. To burn on there with a steady hate. Til morning wearied and dimmed it away to nothing more than some sort of little old lost gray child of a district-station moon, all its hatred spent.” RoomsBenchesBulbsOutcastsJunkies Book:The Man with the Golden Arm Source: The Man with the Golden Arm
“The hard necessity of bringing the judge on the bench down into the dock has been the peculiar responsibility of the writer in all ages of man.” MenWritingHas BeensHardAgeResponsibilityJudgingPeculiarBenchesDocks Author:Nelson Algren
