Singletary arched an eyebrow then, after taking a look around the room, smiled a dubious but encouraging smile, the way you might smile at someone about to depress the ignition button on a homemade jetpack.
Michael ChabonGwen thinks Lazar disrespected her because she's black. And look I mean you're aware of my policy when it comes to that kind of situation."
"Your policy is 'What do I know about being black?'"
"What do I know about being black?...
Maybe the midnight disease was like that, too. After a while you lost the ability to distinguish between your fictional and actual words; you confused yourself with your characters, and the random happenings of your life with the machinations of a plot.
Michael ChabonThey weren't my family and it wasn't my holiday, but I was orphaned and an atheist and I would take what I could get.
Michael ChabonShe was a natural blonde, with delicate hands and feet, and in her youthful photographs one saw a girl with mocking eyes and a tragic smile, the course of whose life would conspire in time to transpose that pair of adjectives.
Michael ChabonFathering imposed an obligation that was more than your money, your body, or your time, a presence neither physical nor measurable by clocks: open-ended, eternal, and invisible, like the commitment of gravity to the stars.
Michael ChabonHe was aware, as he did so, of a poignant air of tragic dedication in all his actions, the dutiful routines of a doomed picket manning his lonely watch, as, beyond the next range of hills, the barbarian horde mounted its conquering ponies.
Michael ChabonMots clés barbarian-horde conquering-ponies doomed-picket
He had already seized this particular day once, but he was prepared, if need be, to go ahead and seize the motherfucker all over again.
Michael ChabonJulie wanted to die of his own whiteness, to be drowned in the tide of his embarrassment on behalf of all uncool white people everywhere when they tried to be cool.
Michael ChabonThey had an old-fashioned sincerity...that touched Archy in this time when everything good in life was either synthesised in transgenic cyborg vats or shade-grown in small batches by a Buddhist collective of blind ex-Carmelite Wiccans.
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