I had thought that words were instruments of precision. Now I know that they devour the world, leaving nothing in its place.
So imagine a fire going -- wood snapping the way it does when it’s a little green — the wind rattling the windows behind the curtains -- and one of t… - Steven Millhauser
So imagine a fire going -- wood snapping the way it does when it’s a little green — the wind rattling the windows behind the curtains -- and one of t…
- Steven Millhauser
His ambition was to insert his dreams into the world, and if they were the wrong dreams, then he would dream them in solitude. - Steven Millhauser
His ambition was to insert his dreams into the world, and if they were the wrong dreams, then he would dream them in solitude.
I’m pleased by anything in myself that strikes me as not myself. - Steven Millhauser
I’m pleased by anything in myself that strikes me as not myself.
That afternoon he told me that the difference between human beings and animals was that human beings were able to dream while awake. He said the purp… - Steven Millhauser
That afternoon he told me that the difference between human beings and animals was that human beings were able to dream while awake. He said the purp…
But what struck me was the book-madness of the place--books lay scattered across the unmade bed and the top of a battered-looking desk, books stood i… - Steven Millhauser
But what struck me was the book-madness of the place--books lay scattered across the unmade bed and the top of a battered-looking desk, books stood i…
I saw that I was in danger of becoming ordinary, and I understood that from now on I would have to be vigilant. - Steven Millhauser
I saw that I was in danger of becoming ordinary, and I understood that from now on I would have to be vigilant.
We know nothing. Absolutely nothing. - Steven Millhauser
We know nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Perhaps sound is only an insanity of silence, a mad gibber of empty space grown fearful of listening to itself and hearing nothing. - Steven Millhauser
Perhaps sound is only an insanity of silence, a mad gibber of empty space grown fearful of listening to itself and hearing nothing.
And again it snowed, and again the sun came out. In the mornings on the way to the station Franklin counted the new snowmen that had sprung up myster… - Steven Millhauser
And again it snowed, and again the sun came out. In the mornings on the way to the station Franklin counted the new snowmen that had sprung up myster…
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