But almost as if presenting the image of some ironic answer, the wings flapped against a sudden, high, unfelt… — Samuel R. Delany
But almost as if presenting the image of some ironic answer, the wings flapped against a sudden, high, unfelt breeze, and the beast, here shorn of all fables, rose and rose—for a while—under the night.
p. 245Source: Wikiquote · CC BY-SA 4.0
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Look, if he’s alive, there’s nothing we have to do about it. If he’s dead, there’s nothing we can do.
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One cannot truly trace the course of a life in a thousand pages. Let us have the reticence here not to attempt it in a thousand words.
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