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S Quotes

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All S Quotes

“Strays is what a writer I recently read calls those who, for one reason or another, and despite whatever they might have wanted earlier in life, never really become a part of life, not in the way most people do. They may have serious relationships, they may have friends, even a sizable circle, they may spend large portions of their time in the company of others. But they never marry and they never have children. On holidays, they join some family or other group. This goes on year after year, until they finally find it in themselves to admit that they'd really rather just stay home. But you must see a lot of people like that, I say to the therapist. Actually, he says, I don't.”

“Streams of brown, soapy water ran from him toward the drain. It circled there before falling in. He closed his eyes tightly so that the soap on his head wouldn’t burn them. “Here’s a little brain exercise for you, Azure: I used to wonder where all the water goes,” said Neela, sitting on a stool outside the tub. “It doesn’t just disappear into nothingness. It needs to go somewhere. But we don’t have normal sewers like the ground districts do. So, what do you think happens to it?” “I-I d-d-don’t know…” “There are pipes beneath us we can’t see. Just because we can’t see the pipes doesn’t mean that the pipes aren’t there. They’re there, alright. They have to be. Winding and weaving. We see their effects, otherwise we’d be swimming in filth. Some come from our sinks. Some come from our tubs. Some come from our toilets. But they’re all connected somewhere. All that dirty water is filtered out and treated somewhere. Some giant collection pool.”

“Strebe nach diesem Kuss des Geliebten, dieser Berührung der Lippen, die den bhakta verzückt und ihn in Gott verwandelt. Für denjenigen, der mit einem solchen Kuss gesegnet wurde, verschwinden die Welten, Sonne und Mond vergehen und selbst das Universum schmilzt dahin in einen unendlichen Ozean der Liebe. Das ist die vollkommene Verzückung nondualer Liebe. (The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda, Volume 3, Lectures from Colombo to Almora, The Sages of India) (S. 208)”

“Street food, she saw. Silky pasta, doughy pizza, steaming pho, obnoxiously tall burgers. Benches had been nestled behind the Royal Festival Hall, and they were filled with people eating personal feasts from paper plates: vast thalis; racks of sticky, black ribs; half lobsters with melting garlic butter and bread. Rows of diners craning to read menus wound between food trucks; queues intermingled, new arrivals negotiating for space. Piglet looked around, the National behind her. She had left the office early, she reasoned; she had time before finding a place to work. She edged forward, walking among the tables. The benches were full, some having to stand, juggling their fried chicken with their phones. There were young men who talked too loudly, laughed with their mouths full, and wore round, tortoiseshell glasses; glamorous women in their fifties and sixties, lunching and drinking; and au pairs with charges no older than twelve who ate salt beef bagels, cacio e pepe, and laksa.”

“Streets like the one she lived on were no accident. They were the North’s lynch mobs, she thought bitterly; the method the big cities used to keep Negroes in their place. And she began thinking of Pop unable to get a job; of Jim slowly disintegrating because he, too, couldn’t get a job, and of the subsequent wreck of their marriage; of Bub left to his own devices after school. From the time she was born, she had been hemmed into an ever-narrowing space, until now she was very nearly walled in and the wall had been built up brick by brick by eager white hands.”

“Streets teemed with hell's wretched souls. New dead with their gadgets and old dead from antiquity. Demons roamed the avenues and alleyways, tormenting hapless damned at random with branding irons, flaming pitchforks, and razor-wire whips. -From the story Remember, Remember, Hell in November, in the anthology, Lawyers in Hell.”