Thursday, 8 January 2009


New year, new pile of books by the bedside.

Last year, a book unfinished, midway. Enlightening and depressing.

Some of the new ones enticing.

Unrelated thought; bits of paper with jottings are building up in pockets and on desk, must do something.

"Old things seemed to have more life, more substance, more humanity in them."

"I was constantly driven by frustrated desires to do bizarre and unacceptable things with and to women." My soul was in constant conflict about it. I never was able to resolve it. Old age is the only relief."


"I moved over alongside him and bent to peer into the crack. The hairs went up on the back of my neck; a little puzzlement and excitement kindled in me too. Along with a feeling of dark things moving, shifting, building tremors of violence under the surface of what until now had been a routine investigation."
Bill Pronzini (bones)

"…. Those Fifties and early Sixties when you moved toward your life with an unstressed freedom no one could understand, now, who had not been young then. There was less outside to that world – less money, fewer cars and people and buildings – and more inside, more blood and hopefulness. Nothing, really, had cost much, relative to now, and nothing, not love or politics, was half so hyped as now."

John Updike the journey to the dead

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