Author: T

A Perfect Day for Bananafish

Nine StoriesJ. D. Salinger; Little, Brown and Company 1991WorldCat•Read Online•LibraryThing•Google Books•BookFinder  the young man put on his robe, closed the lapels tight, and jammed his towel into his pocket. he picked up the slimy wet, cumbersome float and put it under his arm. he plodded alone through the soft, hot sand toward the hotel. on the sub-menu floor of the hotel, which the management directed bathers to use, a woman with zinc salve on her nose got into the elevator wtih the young man. “i see you’re looking at my feet,” he said to her when the car was in motion. “i beg your pardon?” said the woman. “i said i see you’re looking at my feet.” “i beg your pardon. i happened to be looking at the floor,” said the woman, and faced the doors of the car. “if you want to look at my feet, say so,” said the young man. “but don’t be a god-damned sneak about it.” “let me out here please,” the woman said quickly to the girl operating the car. the car doors opened and the woman got out without looking back. “i have two normal feet + i can’t see the slightest god-damned reason why anybody should stare at them,” said the young man. “five, please,” And now you could read... Eleanor Rigby Black Wheel of Anger Less Than Zero Eleanor Rigby...

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Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep

do not stand at my grave and weep i am not there. i do not sleep. i am a thousand winds that blow i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain i am the gentle autumn rain. when you awaken in the morning’s bush, i am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry, i am not there; i did not die. And now you could read... Sum: Tales From The Afterlives Immortality Eleanor Rigby The Two Kings and the Two Labyrinths anyone lived in a pretty how town The Elephant’s Journey Tags: birds, death, do not stand at my grave and weep, grave, i did not die, mary elizabeth frye, night, snow, stars,...

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Remember

Selected Poems (Bloomsbury Poetry Classics)Christina Georgina Rosetti; Bloomsbury Publishing PLC 1992WorldCat•LibraryThing•Google Books•BookFinder  remember me when i am gone away, gone far away into the silent land; when you can no more hold me by the hand, nor i half turn to go yet turning stay. remember me when no more day by day you tell me of our future that you planned: only remember me; you understand it will be late to counsel then or pray. yet if you should forget me for a while and afterwards remember, do not grieve: for if the darkness and corruption have a vestige of the thoughts that once i had, better by for you should forget and smile than that you should remember and be sad. And now you could read... Immortality The Outsider Cry, The Beloved Country The Sisters Brothers The Two Kings and the Two Labyrinths One Hundred Years Of Solitude Tags: christina rossetti, darkness, death, grieve, remember,...

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The Judgement

The Transformation (Metamorphosis) and Other Stories: Works Published During Kafka's Lifetime (Twentieth-Century Classics)Franz Kafka; Penguin Classics 1995WorldCat•LibraryThing•Google Books•BookFinder  “So now you know what else there’s been in the world besides you, until no you’ve known of nothing but yourself. You were an innocent child, it’s true, but it’s even more true that you’ve been a devilish human being! ~ And so hearken to me: I sentence you to death by drowning!” Georg felt himself driven from the room… And now you could read... Remember Immortality Cry, The Beloved Country The Sisters Brothers The Two Kings and the Two Labyrinths One Hundred Years Of Solitude Tags: death, death by drowning, franz kafka, innocent child, selfish, the...

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Black Wheel of Anger

Standard inspection of St Mark's Primary School, Glasgow City Council: a reportGreat Britain. Scottish Office Education and Industry Department. Inspectors of Schools.; Scottish Office Education and Industry Dept.] 1997WorldCat•LibraryThing•Google Books•BookFinder  i have existed since the beginning. in the heart of industrial machinery where the machines of desire live, trapped, alone and out of control. yes, out of control. in juxtaposition to the remaining years of the twentieth century. and there, snipers prowl the rooftops in search of blindness. squatters dwell without electricity in the garden of decay. and we sleep with pleasure, drenched in the sweat of an unnamed fever, our future covered with shit, another police car was burning. i am the electric chair boy strapped into your nightmares. you are the anti-schizophrenic, a participant of the interior colony. you paid the cover charge, i reflect the purchase: the carefully concealed lines of your body, lost inside your clothing, nailed to your seats, afraid of me and afraid of yourselves… …i feel as though i am alone on a deserted shooting range… but you are no longer a child, you no longer live at home. rebel or be nothing of any consequence under the moon’s pale glow… i am out for a walk in the warehouse district, in the driving rain. i am walking with other gods or no gods at all. without family, without mommy and daddy...

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