Lust Lizard Of Melancholy Cove Quotes

So nerds rule.

I think I'm what they call a never-was.

Scratch a cynic and you will find a disappointed romantic.

I think there was always some scrawny dreamer sitting at the edge of the firelight, who had the ability to imagine dangers, to look into the future in his imagination and see possibilities, and therefore survived to pass his genes on to the next generation.

If they'd been dogs, they would have all been in the yard eating grass and trying to yak up whatever was making them feel so lousy. Not a bone gnawed, not a ball chased-all tails went unwagged. Oh, life is a fast cat, a short leash, a flea in that place where you just can't scratch.

On the radio, turned low, Reba sang of hard times with the full authority of a cross-eyed redheaded millionaire.

What’s a Mennonite?” Vance asked. “Amish with blenders.

Everyone thinks that it was the big strong caveman who got the girl, and for the most part, that may have been true, but physical strength doesn't explain how our species created civilization. I think there was always some scrawny dreamer sitting at the edge of the firelight, who had the ability to imagine dangers, to look into the future in his imagination and see possibilities, and therefore survived to pass his genes on to the next generation. When the big ape men ended up running off the cliff or getting killed while trying to beat a mastodon into submission with a stick, the dreamer was standing back thinking 'Hey, that might work, but you need to run the mastodon off the cliff.' And, then he'd mate with the women left over after the go-getters got killed.

Theophilus Crowe wrote bad free-verse poetry and played a jimbai drum while sitting on a rock by the ocean. He could play sixteen chords on the guitar and knew five Bob Dylan songs all the way through, allowing for a dampening buzz any time he had to play a bar chord. He had tried his hand at painting, sculpture, and pottery and had even played a minor part in the Pine Cove Little Theater’s revival of Arsenic and Old Lace. In all of these endeavors, he had experienced a meteoric rise to mediocrity and quit before total embarrassment and self-loathing set in. Theo was cursed with an artist’s soul but no talent. He possessed the angst and the inspiration, but not the means to create.

A Bluesman hates to be told what to do. Authority rankles him, inspires his rebellion, and plays to his need to self-destruct. A Bluesman doesn't take to having a boss unless he's on a chain gang (for the chain gang boss ranks below only a mean old woman and a sweet young thing in the hierarchy of the Blues Muse, followed closely by bad liquor, a dead dog, and the Man).

The visual conjured in Val's mind - all that parched, wrinkled flesh in furious friction - culminated in flames, as if some giant cosmic Boy Scout had decided to rub two old people together to make a fire.

Задименият бар бе изпълнен с блус и с хора, които се наливаха с алкохол, за да прогонят тъгата. Ако бяха кучета, до един щяха да бъдат навин, да се тъпчат с трева и да се мъчат да повърнат онова, което ги кара да се чувстват толкова зле.

LIke many artists, Estelle lived in an atmosphere of chaotic funk, taken by observers to be artistic charm, but in fact no more than a civilized way of dealing with the relative poverty and uncertainty of cannibalizing one's imagination for money. (15/142)

The position of hardware clerk in Pine Cove was highly coveted by the town’s retired male population, for nowhere else could a man posture well past his prime, pontificate, and generally indulge in the arrogant self-important chest-pounding of an alpha male without having a woman intercede to remind him that he was patently full of shit.

Естел се беше зарекла, че повече нито един мъж няма да я види гола. Навремето компромисът й се струваше разумен - отричане от малкото плътски удоволствия в полза на консумиране на сладкищи, които бяха в изобилие, пък и не я караха да се чувства сякаш е изневерила на паметта на Джо. Сега, след като беше нарушила клетвата си и лежеше на пухената постеля до този потен кльощав старик, който с език докосваше върното й (и явно не се смущаваше, че въпросното зърно се намира на гърда, клоняща към подмишницата на Естел, вместо да стърчи като купола на Тадж Махал), тя си даде сметка, че най-сетне е разкодирала загадъчната усмивка на Мона Лиза. Мона хем се е чукала, хем си е похапвала сладкиши.

But Diablo had been built on a breakneck schedule during the energy scare of the seventies. The welders worked double and

Imagine it: a person of the Dark persuasion in their midst. What if he should ask for a vial of Afro-Sheen or some other ethnically oriented product with which they were totally unfamiliar? Why, the smoke alarms would melt, screaming like dying witches, when their collective minds steamed to a stop. Do we look like thrill-seekers? Wasn’t it enough that we had to put up that sign reading NO HABLA ESPANOL and acknowledge the existence of thirty percent of the population, even in the negative? No, we shall err on the side of safety, thank you, and in lieu of sand in which to bury our heads, we shall head into the back room.