Denton Quotes

There's an amazing world out there for you to discover, Henry Denton, but you have to be willing to discover yourself first.

The complexity of the simplest known type of cell is so great that it is impossible to accept that such an object could have been thrown together suddenly by some kind of freakish, vastly improbable, event. Such an occurrence would be indistinguishable from a miracle.

His mother?" Gracie couldn't believe it. Suzy Denton looked much too young to be his mother. And much too respectable. "But you're not a-" She cut herself off in mid-sentence as she realized what she'd almost let slip. Suzy's wedding ring clicked against the steering wheel as she gave it a hard smack. "I'm going to kill him! He's been telling that hooker story again, hasn't he?

This was how Diego saw me. I was Henry Denton and I was Space Boy. I was broken and I was beautiful. I was nothing and I was everything. I didn't matter to the universe, but I mattered to him.

Maybe there is no better novel in the world than Denton Welch's In Youth Is Pleasure. Just holding it in my hands, so precious, so beyond gay, so deliciously subversive, is enough to make illiteracy a worse social crime than hunger.

When you long with all your heart for someone to love you, a madness grows there that shakes all sense from the trees and the water and the earth. And nothing lives for you, except the long deep bitter want. And this is what everyone feels from birth to death.

All right, sweetheart; here's your last question, and it's a real challenge, so don't let yourself get distracted by these jealous women. To make sure all twelve of our future children are going to be legitimate, what New York City football team did Joe Namath play for?" Gracie's face fell. Lord. Any fool should know the answer to this one. New York City... What football team was from New York City? Her expression brightened. "The New York City YANKEES!" A roar of laughter went up from the crowd, accompanied by more than a few loud groans. Bobby Tom silenced them all with a glare. At the same time, the glitter in his eyes dared any of them to contradict her. When he was certain everyone understood the message, he turned back to Gracie and gathered her into his arms. With a tender look and a gentle brush of his lips, he said "Exactly right, sweetheart. I had no idea you knew so much about football" And that was how every last person in Telarosa, Texas, came to understand that Bobby Tom Denton had finally and forever fallen head over heels in love.

Henry Denton: You Brits really don't have a sense of humor do you? Elsie: We do if something's funny, sir.

Considering the way the prebiotic soup is referred to in so many discussions of the origin of life as an already established reality, it comes as something of a shock to realize that there is absolutely no positive evidence for its existence.

There’s an amazing world out there for you to discover, Henry Denton, but you have to be willing to discover yourself first.

He wanted to impart some of the truths Bruce Denton had taught him, that you dont' become a runner by winning a morning workout. The only true way is to marshal the ferocity of your ambition over the course of many days, weeks, months, and (if you could finally come to accept it) years. The Trial of Miles; Miles of Trials. How could he make them understand?

I began to long, as I had before, for some special smell, some special music that would fill me, lift me up and carry me away, float me off the rocks of my body and sweep me into some wideness, some vast expanse of blue-grey nothingness.

Nothing like a cheap shot, right?’ He snorted blood from his nose. ‘I’m disappointed. I thought even terrorists had principles.’ ‘Can it,’ Nasira said, towering over him with her P90 leveled at his head. ‘If we need patriotic paramoralisms, we’ll give Jack Bauer a call.’ Denton grimaced, pulled himself upright. ‘And if I need overblown alliteration, I’ll give you a call.

When you punish a person for dreaming his dream, don't expect him to thank or forgive you / The best ever death metal band out of Denton will in time both outpace and outlive you / Hail Satan!

A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken.

When people tell you, "don't worry," it means you're already screwed. They just don't want you to worry about it...

It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier, who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.

Molecular biology has shown that even the simplest of all living systems on the earth today, bacterial cells, are exceedingly complex objects. Although the tiniest bacterial cells are incredibly small, weighing less than 10-12 gms, each is in effect a veritable micro-miniaturized factory containing thousands of exquisitely designed pieces of intricate molecular machinery, made up altogether of one hundred thousand million atoms, far more complicated than any machine built by man and absolutely without parallel in the nonliving world.

I had come with such pain and labour to a place where emptiness had arrived before me. I was too late, something black and hollow had overtaken me and wriggled through the door.

Judge Rountree holds half my property in the palm of his hand." Denton's growl broke the silence. "I'd appreciate if you didn't insult him at all, much less in his own home." "He named his children One, Two, Three, and Four," she said. "He deserves to be insulted.

MR. VAN BUREN DIED IN THE ARMS OF HIS LOVER, ANNABELLE WHITAKER, IN TENNESSEE. HIS WIFE, MAGS, CAN NOW REST IN PEACE.

And he'd kill Lily Ann Denton, put her in the trunkm and go to arbys. Godm he was hungry.

Some thirteen-year-old with a sticker-covered guitar might right now be in a garage in Denton, Texas, or Peoria, Illinois, or Macon, Georgia, writing an album that could one day flip the world upside down.

If Antarctica were music it would be Mozart. Art, and it would be Michelangelo. Literature, and it would be Shakespeare. And yet it is something even greater; the only place on earth that is still as it should be. May we never tame it.

The white cat Sal-al was lying on the straw matting in the empty conservatory. She looked at us with a wicked, conceited expression as if all her appetites had just been satisfied. She was beautiful. Vesta and I both said, "I wish I were a cat!" Before we got to the last word we smiled at each other in annoyance, not liking the idea that most human beings think very much alike.

The theory of phlogiston was an inversion of the true nature of combustion. Removing phlogiston was in reality adding oxygen, while adding phlogiston was actually removing oxygen. The theory was a total misrepresentation of reality. Phlogiston did not even exist, and yet its existence was firmly believed and the theory adhered to rigidly for nearly one hundred years throughout the eighteenth century. ... As experimentation continued the properties of phlogiston became more bizarre and contradictory. But instead of questioning the existence of this mysterious substance it was made to serve more comprehensive purposes. ... For the skeptic or indeed to anyone prepared to step out of the circle of Darwinian belief, it is not hard to find inversions of common sense in modern evolutionary thought which are strikingly reminiscent of the mental gymnastics of the phlogiston chemists or the medieval astronomers. To the skeptic, the proposition that the genetic programmes of higher organisms, consisting of something close to a thousand million bits of information, equivalent to the sequence of letters in a small library of one thousand volumes, containing in encoded form countless thousands of intricate algorithms controlling, specifying and ordering the growth and development of billions and billions of cells into the form of a complex organism, were composed by a purely random process is simply an affront to reason. But to the Darwinist the idea is accepted without a ripple of doubt - the paradigm takes precedence!

It’s always easier to ignore the things we don’t really want to know.

The air was that perfect spring temperature when it’s hard to tell where your skin stops and the air begins.

And he'd kill Lily Ann Denton, put her in the trunkm and go to arbys. God. he was hungry.

I've always felt that I did well as a student because I lacked confidence.

What New York City football team did Joe Namath play for?" "The New York City Yankees!" A roar of laughter went up from the crowd, accompanied by more than a few loud groans. Bobby Tom silenced them all with a glare. At the same time, the glitter in his eyes dared any of them to contradict her. When he was certain every person there understood his message, he turned back to Gracie and gathered her into his arms. With a tender look and a gentle brush of his lips, he said, "Exactly right, sweetheart. I had no idea you knew so much about football." And that was how every last person in Telarosa, Texas, came to understand that Bobby Tom Denton had finally and forever fallen head over heels in love.

To grasp the reality of life as it has been revealed by molecular biology, we must magnify a cell a thousand million times until it is twenty kilometers in diameter and resembles a giant airship large enough to cover a great city like London or New York. What we would then see would be an object of unparalleled complexity and adaptive design. On the surface of the cell we would see millions of openings, like the port holes of a vast space ship, opening and closing to allow a continual stream of materials to flow in and out. If we were to enter one of these openings we would find ourselves in a world of supreme technology and bewildering complexity.

We are here because we know that the only guarantee in life is that if you do nothing, then nothing will change.

I thought of the many people who had said to me, 'You're young; you've got plenty of time to recover.' This seemed the coldest comfort, the grimmest fact of all.

Denton placed a hand on Cinders' neck, not so much to steady her, but to ground himself. "You're here with twenty soldiers because you thought I was causing trouble?" "No, Denton. I'm here with twenty soldiers because I thought you were in trouble.

If you ever meet someone who thinks they are so special, the best thing to do is smile. You don’t have to say anything. Be friendly and then go do your best. That will make you special, too!

In the discoveries of science the harmony of the spheres is also now the harmony of life. And as the eerie illumination of science penetrates evermore deeply into the order of nature, the cosmos appears increasingly to be a vast system finely tuned to generate life and organisms of biology very similar, perhaps identical, to ourselves. All the evidence available in the biological sciences supports the core proposition of traditional natural theology - that the cosmos is a specially designed whole with life and mankind as a fundamental goal and purpose, a whole in which all facets of reality, from the size of galaxies to the thermal capacity of water, have their meaning and explanation in this central fact. Four centuries after the scientific revolution apparently destroyed irretrievably man's special place in the universe, banished Aristotle, and rendered teleological speculation obsolete, the relentless stream of discovery has turned dramatically in favor of teleology and design, and the doctrine of the microcosm is reborn. As I hope the evidence presented in this book has shown, science, which has been for centuries the great ally of atheism and skepticism, has become at last, in the final days of the second millennium, what Newton and many of its early advocates had so fervently wished - the "defender of the anthropocentric faith.

Moralistic Therapeutic Deism, say Smith and Denton, seems to be “colonizing many historical religious traditions and, almost without anyone noticing, converting believers in the old faiths to its alternative religious vision of divinely underwritten personal happiness and interpersonal niceness.”23

Blackburn thought that any band that believed it's lyrics were crucial was kidding itself. Kids out on Saturday night wanted to drink, dance and yell "WOOOO!" and have sex with somebody. They didn't want to hear a bad poet bare the angst in his tortured and immature soul. They could go to college for that shit.

The moral of the story’, he repeated, leaning forward and placing his hands flat on the desk in front of him, ‘is that every so often a natural disaster comes along, an act of God, and it blows all the dust away and when it does people can see that whatever’s left underneath ain’t so pretty. You get it?’ Denton

I wrote about the night bird cries, the sea sounds and the lonely barking, and I liked what I wrote in flashes; but something was wrong with it. There is always something wrong with writing. So I tore the paper up at last, liking the untouched memory so much better, not wanting it forced into the insincerity of words.

None of us are afraid of dying. We are afraid of living in this kind of oppression.

Then that would be the will of Fate, or of whoever was in charge. Maybe John. Maybe Elvis. Maybe Sam. Maybe Buddy. Maybe, baby.

I knew there was more--Mama loved to remind me of that--but Glory Road was what I knew and loved.

But my mind was still on that front porch, welcoming the silence, the contentment, the exquisite pleasure of a quiet, love-filled life.

how could you explain true love, the kind that nurtures and respects, that honors and cherishes?

I’d been acknowledged—seen—maybe for the first time. The sensation was dizzying.

Tim looked after him, disquieted. He thought Drummer Denton was one of those fellows who might decide some rainy night to kill himself.

He thought Drummer Denton was one of those fellows who might decide some rainy night to kill himself.

Oh, hell no!" I yell at them. They are not about to negotiate as to whether they get to see my goods. "Denton, I swear to God, if you come over here, I am sending you anthrax in the mail!

Denton struck Charley as the kind of man who never wasted energy on extra movement or idle chitchat. He was foursquare Sonny Boy Williamson and Sister Rosetta Tharpe, a Silvertone guitar, older than old school.

Red lost her amusement. "Noko and I will set out for Halthdurn in three days. We'll be needing your best horses, Denton." "Cygnus isn't behaving?" "Cygnus is a brat." "Like rider like horse." "I take offense to that." "More like you represent that.

The heat swept off the black asphalt in waves as our ragged group started down the street between two columns of people. At first, the crowd was sparse, well-dressed, and relatively quiet, obviously high-ranking party officials. As the crowd got thicker and louder, a guard shouted:'Bow your heads!' The words shot through me like a streak of lightning. I shouted:'You are Americans! Keep your heads up!

Smith and Denton reporting on the spiritual lives of American teenagers found a common belief that, as they wryly put it, God was 'something like a combination Divine Butler and Cosmic Therapist', who was availabe on demand but undemanding. This has been popularly characterised as 'benign whateverism'. Its core is that we should try to be nice, kind, respectful and responsible, and by doing so achieve a state of 'feeling good, happy, secure, at peace.' Worse things might certainly be believed; but this is not enough to support a civilisation, inspire great art, induce fidelity, inculcate sanctity, motivate self-sacrifice, or lead us to insights into the nature of existence.

On February 25, 1984, President Reagan said: “Sometimes I can’t help but feel the First Amendment is being turned on its head…the pendulum has swung to intolerance against religious freedom…The First Amendment of the Constitution was not written to protect the people from religion; that Amendment was written to protect religion from government tyranny.

My last conscious thought was that although I lay in squalor, my mouth was minty fresh.

Please keep letting me in. I’m always on your side, okay? You can tell me anything and my love for you isn’t going to change. No matter what.

I might not be poetic, little girl. But, you’re the other half of my soul.

And weeds? I will never forget her terse observation: 'Back home, we don't have any weeds. We only have plants for which we have not yet found a use.

and its mysterious contents. Part of me felt

Silence stretched between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Rather, it was a space for dreams. For possibility.

back

I love the smell of New Orleans in the morning. Even now.

I’m in Mobile. Just across the Bay.

Somewhere in the first couple of days, the

I sighed and rested my head against the back of the glider. “I’m okay. How are you?

She felt like she needed to both run a mile and go back to sleep for the next three hours.

You wanted to be treasured.” “I-I guess you could say that,” I said, stammering. “Instead, I got this life—and a husband—I hardly recognize. It’s not what I pictured, that’s for sure.

Lexington, Kentucky looks like paradise. Acres of grass as green and tender as a golf course putting green surround hilltop mansions. New Circle Road--a beltway enveloping the city's heartland like a moat--attempts to separate the wealthy landowners from the encroaching strip centers and fast-food joins that are symbolic of the rest of the state .... Combining the traditional feelings of Southerners with the uniquely gorgeous landscape of the bluegrass, Lexingtonians consider themselves and their region the cream of the crop--not only of Kentucky, but also of the nation.

That’s part of what I loved most about our little swatch of land out here—its permanence. It spoke of earth and time and dust and life. It was here before I arrived, and it would be here long after I was gone.

Ryker, I do trust you, but I can’t let your fear of losing me keep me from making my own choices. This didn’t exactly work out like I had hoped, but it was a choice I had to make." Kiah trilogy (2) The Tech War

I used to know everything about you. What made you laugh, what made you upset. The way you bounced on your toes when you were excited about something." He smiled. "I knew the real you. Underneath everything you layered on yourself, I knew who you were inside." He reached out a hand, then let it drop to his side. "It's been twenty years, Jessie. I want...you. So much it hurts. That has never changed. Not since the very first day.

Of the many 'firsts' with which I have been involved at the Texas Heart Institute —including the first successful human heart transplant in the United States and the first total artificial heart transplant in the world—the achievement that may have the greatest impact on health care did not occur in the operating room or in the research laboratory. It happened on a piece of paper... when we created the first-ever packaged pricing plan for cardiovascular surgical procedures.

love is a choice you make in your head too. I knew I was in love with your father because I couldn’t imagine my future without him. I didn’t want to imagine it. He became such a part of me that I knew if he wasn’t there, I’d lose a part of myself too.

We tend to know a lot about our parents’ lives, but our grandparents? The big events of their lives happened long before we were born. By the time we’re old enough to be curious about what made them who they are, they’re old and forgetful. Or not even around anymore.

Bartender: "Listen to me. This is real freedom, freedom to own property, make a profit, make your life. The West, so afraid of strong government, now has no government. Only financial power." JC Denton: "Our governments have limited power by design." Bartender: "Rheroric... And you belive it! Don't you know where those slogans come from? Well-paid researchers -- how do you say it? -- "think tanks," funded by big businesses. What is that? "A think tank"? It's privately-funded propagandea. The Trilateral Commission in the United States, for instance.

Adrenaline surged through me. Testosterone and electricity. I began to understand the power of aggression, of fists and fighting and pain. With this hammer, I wasn't Space Boy or Henry Denton, I was a mighty warrior and I could do anything. I attacked the wall, punching hole after hole into it, and when I'd made enough holes, I tore it down with my bare hands and bloody knuckles. The wall was my bad grades in school. The wall was the sluggers and their fucking button. The wall was Marcus. The wall was Jesse. The wall was Mom's job and Charlie's daughter. The wall was Diego. The wall was everything I hated, everything I loved.

As a virginal preteen, and as a woman who’d taken lovers, she had daydreamed about kissing Denton Carter. While writing her book, specifically the sex scenes between him and Susan, it hadn’t been her sister he was kissing, caressing, and taking with adolescent fervor. It had been her. The fantasies had left her aroused, but irritated with herself. Surely her imagination embellished how good lovemaking with him would be. But now she realized that her daydreams had actually been tepid. His kiss was delicious and darkly erotic. It delivered. It promised more. And the substance of what it promised made her wet, feverish, and needy.

It was electric, like a thousand butterflies in my chest or a thousand balloons flying free. Sometimes being apart was even better than being with him, because I could anticipate seeing him. When we’d finally see each other again, the air between us would crackle and snap, and I couldn’t cross the room fast enough to be next to him.

He regarded her indignantly. “Did she say I broke our engagement?” “She didn’t say hardly anything when I talked to her this morning, just that the two of you reached a mutual decision to end your relationship.” “And you assumed that meant I ended it.” “Didn’t you?” “Hell, no.” “Are you saying Gracie dumped you?” He saw too late the trap he’d laid for himself. “‘Course not. Nobody dumps me.” “She did, didn’t she? She dumped you! Holy Moses! A person of the female species finally gave Bobby Tom Denton back a little bit of what he’s been giving out.” Grinning widely, she lifted her face to the heavens. “Thank you, Jesus!” “Will you stop that! She didn’t dump me. Haven’t you figured out by now that we were never really engaged! It was just a ploy to keep everybody off my back while I was in town.” The fact that Terry Jo was making a joke out of this hurt in a way he couldn’t express. “Of course you were engaged. A blind fool could see the two of you love each other.” “We do not! Well, maybe she loves me, but…I care about her. Who wouldn’t? She’s about the best kind of woman there is. But, love? She’s not my type, Terry Jo.” Terry Jo gave him a long, steady gaze. “It’s amazing. You don’t know any more about women now than you did in high school when you threw me over for Sherri Hopper.” She regarded him sadly. “When are you going to grow up, Bobby Tom?

[M]ost Americans are still drawing some water from the Christian well. But a growing number are inventing their own versions of what Christianity means, abandoning the nuances of traditional theology in favor of religions that stroke their egos and indulge or even celebrate their worst impulses. . . . Both doubters and believers stand to lose if religion in the age of heresy turns out to be complicit in our fragmented communities, our collapsing families, our political polarization, and our weakened social ties. Both doubters and believers will inevitably suffer from a religious culture that supplies more moral license than moral correction, more self-satisfaction than self-examination, more comfort than chastisement. . . . Many of the overlapping crises in American life . . . can be traced to the impulse to emphasize one particular element of traditional Christianity—one insight, one doctrine, one teaching or tradition—at the expense of all the others. The goal is always progress: a belief system that’s simpler or more reasonable, more authentic or more up-to-date. Yet the results often vindicate the older Christian synthesis. Heresy sets out to be simpler and more appealing and more rational, but it often ends up being more extreme. . . . The boast of Christian orthodoxy . . . has always been its fidelity to the whole of Jesus. Its dogmas and definitions seek to encompass the seeming contradictions in the gospel narratives rather than evading them. . . . These [heretical] simplifications have usually required telling a somewhat different story about Jesus than the one told across the books of the New Testament. Sometimes this retelling has involved thinning out the Christian canon, eliminating tensions by subtracting them. . . . More often, though, it’s been achieved by straightforwardly rewriting or even inventing crucial portions of the New Testament account. . . . “Religious man was born to be saved,” [Philip Rieff] wrote, but “psychological man is born to be pleased.” . . . In 2005, . . . . Smith and Denton found no evidence of real secularization among their subjects: 97 percent of teenagers professed some sort of belief in the divine, 71 percent reported feeling either “very” or “somewhat” close to God, and the vast majority self-identified as Christian. There was no sign of deep alienation from their parents’ churches, no evidence that the teenagers in the survey were poised to convert outright to Buddhism or Islam, and no sign that real atheism was making deep inroads among the young. But neither was there any evidence of a recognizably orthodox Christian faith. “American Christianity,” Smith and Denton suggested, is “either degenerating into a pathetic version of itself,” or else is “actively being colonized and displaced by a quite different religious faith.” They continued: “Most religious teenagers either do not really comprehend what their own religious traditions say they are supposed to believe, or they do understand it and simply do not care to believe it.” . . . An ego that’s never wounded, never trammeled or traduced—and that’s taught to regard its deepest impulses as the promptings of the divine spirit—can easily turn out to be an ego that never learns sympathy, compassion, or real wisdom. And when contentment becomes an end unto itself, the way that human contents express themselves can look an awful lot like vanity and decadence. . . . For all their claims to ancient wisdom, there’s nothing remotely countercultural about the Tolles and Winfreys and Chopras. They’re telling an affluent, appetitive society exactly what it wants to hear: that all of its deepest desires are really God’s desires, and that He wouldn’t dream of judging. This message encourages us to justify our sins by spiritualizing them. . . . Our vaunted religiosity is real enough, but our ostensible Christian piety doesn’t have the consequences a casual observer might expect. . . . We nod to God, and then we do as we please.

She glanced at me as if looking for confirmation. I opened my mouth, then closed it. My mind was a chalkboard wiped clean. My fingers found the edges of the folded letter inside the envelope. “Thank you, Vernon.” Dot stood. “It’s time for us all to go home. We’ll eat, then we can talk about everything.” She looked at me. “We’ll see you at the house.” I pried open the manila envelope before I even closed my car door. Aside

I think you marry the one who, when everything else is stripped away—money, job, arguments, disagreements—he’s still the one you’d want to sit with on the porch and . . . just . . . do nothing. Or do anything.” I looked down at my fingers spread out on top of the rolling cart next to me, each nail painted a smooth, glossy mother-of-pearl. Not a speck of dirt in sight. “Pick the one who matters more than all the stuff of life.

October 31st and November 1st will remain for ever memorable in the history of our country, for, during those two days, no more than one thin and straggling line of tired-out British soldiers stood between the Empire and its practical ruin as an independent first-class Power.

(Writing about the Green Knight in long poem Sir Gawain and The Green Knight) It seems safe to say, first, that the peom is not an allegory, in any simple sense of the term. Bercilak, as a supernatural creature tempting Gawain to sin, has elememts of a devil, as a genial host who leads Sir Gawain to self-knowledge, he is a friendly guide; and as a green man who dies in winter and is miraculously reborn, he has elements of a fertility deity. But he cannot be flatly equated with any of these figures without falisfyjng the complexity.

™' (Just Doomed!) David Worthy Category: Character Appears in: Schooling Around series David Worthy is a class captain of 5B at Northwest Southeast Central School (David shares the captaincy with Fiona McBrain). David is very fond of rules and is never happier than when quoting from the school handbook. Appearances Treasure Fever! (2008) Pencil of Doom! (2008) Mascot Madness! (2009) Robot Riot! (2009) The Day My Bum Went Psycho Category: Novel Series: The Bum trilogy Author: Andy Griffiths Illustrator: Terry Denton Publisher: Pan Macmillan Year of publication: 2001

Christian Smith and Melinda Lundquist Denton conducted a long investigation into the religious lives of American teenagers, and discovered exactly the kind of therapeutic theology that Rieff had seen coming. Smith and Denton found no evidence of real secularization among their subjects: 97 percent of teenagers professed some sort of belief in the divine, 71 percent reported feeling either “very” or “somewhat” close to God, and the vast majority self-identified as Christian.59 There was no sign of deep alienation from their parents’ churches, no evidence that the teenagers in the survey were poised to convert outright to Buddhism or Islam, and no sign that real atheism was making deep inroads among the young. But neither was there any evidence of a recognizably orthodox Christian faith. “American Christianity,” Smith and Denton suggested, is “either degenerating into a pathetic version of itself,” or else is “actively being colonized and displaced by a quite different religious faith.”60 They continued: “Most religious teenagers either do not really comprehend what their own religious traditions say they are supposed to believe, or they do understand it and simply do not care to believe it.

There are three points of view from which a writer can be considered: he may be considered as a storyteller, as a teacher, and as an enchanter. A major writer combines these three — storyteller, teacher, enchanter — but it is the enchanter in him that predominates and makes him a major writer…The three facets of the great writer — magic, story, lesson — are prone to blend in one impression of unified and unique radiance, since the magic of art may be present in the very bones of the story, in the very marrow of thought…Then with a pleasure which is both sensual and intellectual we shall watch the artist build his castle of cards and watch the castle of cards become a castle of beautiful steel and glass.” ~ Vladimir Nabokov

Not since the Kennedy's of Massachusetts has an American family publicly suffered personal tragedy after personal tragedy like the Von Erichs of Denton County, Texas.

To help Jack through his painful last months, I moved into his home on Lake Dallas in Denton County, Texas. In the months that followed, Jack Adkisson and I would become the closest of friends. I did my best to take care of him and make his final days as pleasant as possible until he passed away in September of that year. I considered it a privilege to spend those last few months with a man I have always considered my life-long hero. Being by his side as he passed from this world was an experience that has touched my life in so many ways.

The belts do more than make you fuzzy, Denton. They change the way you think. The way you act.

H&H Denton Appliance Repair is proud to provide appliance repair for customers in Denton, TX and surrounding communities. Customers count on us to fix all major brands and models of appliances for a price they can afford. Service includes warranty and 100% satisfaction guarantee.

An honest man, armed with all the knowledge available to us now, could only state that in some sense, the origin of life appears at the moment to be almost a miracle, so many are the conditions which would have to be satisfied to get it going.

as

Petrichor,

It could be a Michael Powell film or a page from the diaries of Denton Welch...the field would make a good Brideshead-like beginning for a film: as it is now and as it was then...’There is nothing I would want to alter or improve. Unattended to, disregarded (though it’s grade 1 listed) it is just as the past should be.

How many children could say their home hosted the humblest and highest at the same time, on any given evening invaded by expatriates their father never hesitated to invite in? Through the back door he welcomed a bookseller, organ grinder, biscuit maker, vagrant macaroni man, and one called Galli who thought he was Christ. Through the front, disgraced Italian counts and generals made as officious entrances as a small house on Charlotte Street afforded.

One day in the country was worth a month in town and better than Christmas, her birthday, or even Papa saying she was like the moon risen at the full.

Sweet, innocent little Daisy has no idea I wanted to be her villain, not her mother’s prince.

Nick Denton’s core insight: in the newspaper era, the best stories were sometimes the ones reporters told one another in bars, rather than the ones they printed.