The chess pieces are the block alphabet which shapes thoughts; and these thoughts, although making a visual design on the chess-bo...ard, express their beauty abstractly, like a poem.... I have come to the personal conclusion that while all artists are not chess players, all chess players are artists.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I am fooling only myself when I say my mother exists now only in the photograph on my bulletin board or in the outline of my hand ...or in the armful of memories I still hold tight. She lives on in everything I do. Her presence influenced who I was, and her absence influences who I am. Our lives are shaped as much by those who leave us as they are by those who stay. Loss is our legacy. Insight is our gift. Memory is our guide.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Upscale young men seem to go for the kind of woman who plays with a full deck of credit cards, who won't cry when she's knocked to... the ground while trying to board the six o'clock Eastern shuttle, and whose schedule doesn't allow for a sexual encounter lasting more than twelve minutes.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Why should you renounce your right to traverse the star-lit deserts of truth, of the premature comforts of an acre, house, and bar...n? Truth also has its roof, and bed, and board.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
We have feudal governments in a commercial age. It would be but an easy extension of our commercial system, to pay a private emper...or a fee for services, as we pay an architect, an engineer, or a lawyer. If any man has talent for righting wrong, for administering difficult affairs, for counselling poor farmers how to turn their estates to good husbandry, for combining a hundred private enterprises to a general benefit, let him in the county- town, or in Court-street, put up his sign-board, Mr. Smith, Governor, Mr. Johnson, Working king.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Let a man attain the highest and broadest culture that any American has possessed, then let him die by sea-storm, railroad collisi...on, or other accident, and all America will acquiesce that the best thing has happened to him; that, after the education has gone far, such is the expensiveness of America, that the best use to put a fine person to is to drown him to save his board.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Initially, between the trees, he caught sight of whirling, jumping bodies. Heya-hey-heya. Someone climbing. Rocks pitched after a ...board; and on the river, tilting patches of reflection. Heya-fulla-heya-heya. Boys were sliding down the bank on their buttocks, roughing the scaly sand. They sailed a can lid on the water where at first it turned, floating, then sank, burning like a mirror. Hiyah-smilah. Hee-mee? Coltch. Skirts rose slowly, slowly subsided. A parasol flew open with a snap. Or-rawk. Gah. Houf. Half buried in the shingle, a deep red brick was then awash. Yo-yo giggy. Teetoo Sheek? Num! Lissa-lissa. A willow leaned out, trailing its leaves in the water.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Boston is not a small New York, as they say a child is not a small adult but is, rather, a specially organized small creature with... its small-creature's temperature, balance, and distribution of fat. In Boston there is an utter absence of that wild electric beauty of New York, of the marvelous, excited rush of people in taxicabs at twilight, of the great Avenues and Streets, the restaurants, theatres, bars, hotels, delicatessens, shops. In Boston the night comes down with an incredibly heavy, small-town finality. The cows come home; the chickens go to roost; the meadow is dark. Nearly every Bostonian is in his house or in someone else's house, dining at the home board, enjoying domestic and social privacy.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I struck the board, and cried, "No more. I will abroad."... What? Shall I ever sigh and pine? My lines and life are free; free as the road, Loose as the wind, as large as store. Shall I be still in suit?LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the same ...horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time. That is the life of men. Now, women forget all those things they don't want to remember, and remember everything they don't want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »