A short story is the ultimate close-up magic trick -- a couple of thousand words to take you around the universe or break your heart.
Neil GaimanRead
Diana used to tell me she had a travel jinx, something I only really started to believe when the plane door fell off.
Interpretation
The quote humorously suggests a superstition about travel, highlighting an unexpected and absurd incident.
Neil Gaiman's quote reflects the whimsical notion of a 'travel jinx' as a kind of superstition where one believes they are particularly unlucky when traveling. The absurdity of a plane door falling off serves to amplify this idea, illustrating the unpredictable nature of travel and life, while infusing a humorous perspective on how people often attribute misfortunes to personal beliefs or quirks.
In practice
This quote would be perfect for a travel blog to add a touch of humor about unexpected travel mishaps.
A short story is the ultimate close-up magic trick -- a couple of thousand words to take you around the universe or break your heart.
Jesus. Low-Key Lyesmith," said Shadow. and then he heard what he was saying and he understood. "Loki," he said. "Loki Lie-smith." "You're slow," said Loki, "but you get there in the end." And his lips twisted into a scarred smile and the embers danced in the shadows of his eyes.
As a teenager I wrote to R.A. Lafferty. And he responded, too, with letters that were like R.A. Lafferty short stories, filled with elliptical answers to straight questions and simple answers to complicated ones.
The important thing to understand about American history, wrote Mr. Ibis, in his leather-bound journal, is that it is fictional, a charcoal-sketched simplicity for the children, or the easily bored.
Nothing’s changed. You’ll go home. You’ll be bored. You’ll be ignored. No one will listen to you, really listen to you. You’re too clever and too quiet for them to understand. They don’t even get your name right.
I like the stars. It's the illusion of permanence, I think. I mean, they're always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here, I can pretend...I can pretend that things last. I can pretend that lives last longer than moments. Gods come, and gods go. Mortals flicker and flash and fade. Worlds don't last; and stars and galaxies are transient, fleeting things that twinkle like fireflies and vanish into cold and dust. But I can pretend.
For me, suspense doesn't have any value if it's not balanced by humor.
I ask people why they have deer heads on their walls. They always say because it's such a beautiful animal. There you go. I think my mother is attractive, but I have photographs of her.
I've actually gone to the zoo and had monkeys shout to me from their cages, "I'm in here when you're walking around like that?"
There are two kinds of music; German music and bad music.
Bunbury? Oh, he was quite exploded. Exploded! Was he the victim of a revolutionary outrage? I was not aware that Mr. Bunbury was interested in social legislation. If so, he is well punished for his morbidity. My dear Aunt Augusta, I mean he was found out! The doctors found out that Bunbury could not , that is what I mean—so Bunbury died. He seems to have had great confidence in the opinion of his physicians.
I can only assume that your editorial writer tripped over the First Amendment and thought it was the office cat.
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