Sublime

Still, a certain uneasiness spread among his students. Colleagues had begun to question his powers of reason. Admirers were saddened to see him stumble over facts, contradict himself, or…

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William Maxwell says it somewhere in The Folded Leaf: that the teenager gets so brooding in his sexuality and self-sanctity that all he requires of others is their absence.

as if he, too, might have another hundred years or two to document what time hides forever in plain sight.

Here’s what I can’t say to you in front of your face: I’m worried about the future of your maximum taste. People in my and earlier generations, at least those lucky enough to get a college education, got some exposure to the classics, which lit a fire that gets rekindled every time we sit down to read something really excellent. I worry that it’s p

Our social skills are currently inadequate to the pluralistic societies we are living in.

Contemplating their loss, I could relate to Henry David Thoreau, who, a hundred and seventy years earlier, living not far from where I live now, wrote about mourning the loss of a tree just like mine: A plant which it has taken two centuries to perfect, rising by slow stages into the heavens, has this afternoon ceased to exist . . . Why does not th

transgression

The (seemingly regular) deaths of unarmed