Sublime

Newman, with his pen behind his ear, sat, stiff and immovable, on his stool, regarding the father and son by turns with a broad stare.

Adam recalls something he learned in graduate school: memory is always a collaboration in progress.

thumbtacks to a magnet, the seduction boys were up his ass. He was a manic new voice, an instant do-it-yourself guru. And, soon, he was Papa’s trusted wing. He joined Papa on his journey to spend face time with every seducer with a silly nickname. And one of them, naturally, was me. Tyler Durden e-mailed me constantly. He was a persistent little br

And she can’t handle that. She can’t take any more wounds or she’s going to die.

Briefly Carleton considered the other man, of whom he’d made such a study he might have been appointed professor of Thomas Studies at the University of Essex. He knew, for example, that Thomas was a confirmed bachelor, as they say, never seen in the company of a beautiful young person or a stately older one; that he had about him the melancholy rel

“My old friend,” Albert said. “The one I wake up every morning thinking about.” “How do you know?” “Same way I know everything. CNN.” “Harvey said he was dead.” “Yes, well, he looked pretty healthy to me. Before he got shot anyway.” “Someone shot him?” “A little gangster, in L.A. somewhere.” “You positive?” “There isn’t a doubt in my mind.” “Fuckin