Hamlet. Seems, madam? Nay, it is. I know not “seems.” ‘Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected havior of the visage, Together with all forms, moods,…

They talked all night long.  And that night everything came together for Arvid: the strange prisoner’s car in an alien country; the rhythmic nighttime clicking of the wheels, which always finds an echo in our hearts; and the girl’s melodic voice, her whispers, her breath reaching his ear – his…

Ordinarily, at such a juncture, Penrod would have fled, keeping his own temper and increasing the heat of his pursuer’s by back-flung jeers. But this was Wednesday, and he was in no mood to run from Sam. He stepped away from the tree, awaiting the onset. “Well, what you goin’…

The universe is either a confusion, and a mutual involution of things, and a dispersion; or it is unity and order and providence. If then it is the former, why do I desire to tarry in a fortuitous combination of things and such a disorder? and why do I care…

Freedom is like a man who kills himself Each night, an incessant butcher, whose knife Grows sharp in blood. The armies kill themselves, And in their blood an ancient evil dies – The action of incorrigible tragedy. And you, my semblables, behold in blindness That a new glory of new…