ellauri052.html on line 943: It may be helpful to note here that Bellow’s fame, already growing after The Adventures of Augie March, exploded after the publication of Herzog in 1964—the same year Daniel, his youngest son, was born. By the time the newly rich writer, urged by his third wife, moved into a fancy co-op on Lake Michigan, Greg already possessed enough of what he thought were his own opinions to dislike the white plush carpets, the 11 rooms “filled with fancy furniture and modern art.” Reminding the reader he was “raised by a frugal mother and a father who had no steady income,” Greg says that he “found the trappings of wealth in their new apartment so repellent that I complained bitterly to Saul,” who replied that he didn’t care about the new shiny things so long as he could still write—which he could. “As I always had, I accepted what he said about art at face value,” Greg admits, but he stopped visiting the new place. After the marriage deteriorated and Saul moved out, 3-year-old Daniel, in the words of ex-child-therapist Greg, “took to expressing his distress” by peeing on the carpets. “I have to admit that the yellow stains on them greatly pleased me,” Greg writes—for once showing off the Bellovian touch.
ellauri109.html on line 515: A fiction writer’s life is his treasure, his ore, his savings account, his jungle gym,” Updike wrote. “As long as I am alive, I don’t want somebody else playing on my jungle gym—disturbing my children, quizzing my ex-wife, bugging my present wife, seeking for Judases among my friends, rummaging through yellowing old clippings, quoting in extenso bad reviews I would rather forget, and getting everything slightly wrong.”
ellauri111.html on line 265: “I’m sorry,” he said, taking a breath (or what seemed like a breath). “As I say, even here there are times when I could wish for a cigarette—or even a good whisky”, he added with a smile, nodding reassuringly at me.
ellauri119.html on line 696: Rand once said, “As an advocate of reason, egoism and capitalism, I seek to reach the men of the intellect.” Clearly, my exposition wasn’t meant for you dear, nor for your retard hubby.
ellauri145.html on line 515: I had no idea Nietzsche could be funny until I read his letters. “The gentlest, most reasonable man may, if he wears a large moustache, sit as it were in its shade and feel safe,” he wrote, self-mockingly. “As the accessory of a large moustache he will give the impression of being military, irascible and sometimes violent – and will be treated accordingly.” More fun wisecracks:
ellauri219.html on line 449: A disciple of Sir Mahatavara Babaji (No.27), Sir Lahiri Mahasaya learned the discipline of Kriya Yoga in 1861, and subsequently passed the teachings down to Sir Yukteswar Girl (No.1), who in turn, passed them on to Sir Paramahansa Yogananda (No.33), of whom Mahasaya said, “As a spiritual engine, he will carry many souls to God’s Kingdom.”
ellauri262.html on line 612: But Mr Neeson, who provided the voice of Aslan in the recent Narnia films, said: “Aslan symbolises a Christlike figure, but he also symbolises for me Mohammed, Buddha and all the great spiritual leaders and prophets over the centuries.”
ellauri322.html on line 421: “As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods;
xxx/ellauri148.html on line 197: The rabbis have taught; The Holy One, blessed be He, will say to Messiah ben David, may he be revealed soon in our day!; “Ask of Me anything, and I shall give it to you, for it is written, The Lord said unto me, Thou art my son, this day have I begotten thee, ask of Me and I will give the nations for thy inheritance (Psalms 2:7-8)” And when he will see that Messiah ben Joseph will be slain, he will say before Him: “Master of the World! I ask nothing of you except life! God will say to him: “Even before you said, ‘life,’ your father David prophesied about you as it is written, He asked life of Me, Thou gavest it him (Ps. 21:5) Babylonian Talmud Sukkah 52a
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 544: “Ask away,” Nick Adams said.
xxx/ellauri215.html on line 137: “A fiction writer’s life is his treasure, his ore, his savings account, his jungle gym,” he wrote. “As long as I am alive, I don’t want somebody else playing on my jungle gym—disturbing my aborted children, quizzing my ex-wife, bugging my present wife, seeking for Judases among my friends, rummaging through yellowing old clippings, quoting in extenso bad reviews I would rather forget, and getting everything slightly wrong.”
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