Dogmatic theological statements are neither logical propositions nor poetic utterances. They are "shaggy dog" stories; they have a... point, but he who tries too hard to get it will miss it.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
She had never known before how much the country meant to her. The chirping of the insects in the long grass had been like the swee...test music. She had felt as if her heart were hiding down there, somewhere, with the quail and the plover and all the little wild things that crooned or buzzed in the sun. Under the long shaggy ridges, she felt the future stirring.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Maybe I couldn't make it. Maybe I don't have a pretty smile, good teeth, nice tits, long legs, a cheeky arse, a sexy voice. Maybe ...I don't know how to handle men and increase my market value, so that the rewards due to the feminine will accrue to me. Then again, maybe I'm sick of the masquerade. I'm sick of pretending eternal youth. I'm sick of belying my own intelligence, my own will, my own sex. I'm sick of peering at the world through false eyelashes, so everything I see is mixed with a shadow of bought hairs; I'm sick of weighting my head with a dead mane, unable to move my neck freely, terrified of rain, of wind, of dancing too vigorously in case I sweat into my lacquered curls. I'm sick of the Powder Room. I'm sick of pretending that some fatuous male's self-important pronouncements are the objects of my undivided attention, I'm sick of going to films and plays when someone else wants to, and sick of having no opinions of my own about either. I'm sick of being a transvestite. I refuse to be a female impersonator. I am a woman, not a castrate.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
At fifteen I visualized myself as a world-famous author of seventy with a mane of wavy white hair. Today I am practically bald.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Over the stark plain The stilted mill-chimneys once again spread... Their sackcloth and ashes a flowing mane Of repentance for the false day that's fled.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Water. Its sunny track in the plain; its splashing in the garden canal, the sound it makes when in its course it meets the mane of... the grass; the diluted reflection of the sky together with the fleeting sight of the reeds; the Negresses fill their dripping gourds and their red clay containers; the song of the washerwomen; the gorged fields the tall crops ripening.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
In my Pantheon, Pan still reigns in his pristine glory, with his ruddy face, his flowing beard, and his shaggy body, his pipe and ...his crook, his nymph Echo, and his chosen daughter Iambe; for the great god Pan is not dead, as was rumored. No god ever dies. Perhaps of all the gods of New England and of ancient Greece, I am most constant at his shrine.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
There was ... a large, shaggy dog, whose nose, report said, was full of porcupine quills. I can testify that he looked very sober.... This is the usual fortune of pioneer dogs, for they have to face the brunt of the battle for their race.... When a generation or two have used up all their enemies' darts, their successors lead a comparatively easy life. We owe to our fathers analogous blessings.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »